Harry Potter and the Game of Death
by Elsil
Summary: On the night that Harry repels the Dementors in the Forbidden Forest, something strange awakens within him. He is invited to play the Game of Death. Join Harry as he makes new companions, fights to defeat the Death Eaters, confront Voldemort, finds love, and slowly learns what it means to play a game with Death. AU starting end of PoA, Harem, Good Dumbledore, MoD and Game aspects.
1. Chapter 1: Death Approaches

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter One: Death Approaches**

The shadowy forms of Dementors swooped through the night air. With only the light of the moon and stars in the sky, the land lay covered in a cloak of shadowy fog. The chill air caught in the throat and sent shivers down the spine as the creatures swept through its dark embrace.

Harry tightly grasped his wand as they approached. He strained to conjure a corporeal Patronus; yet no matter hard he tried nothing appeared. The faint stream of silver coming forth from the wand only delayed the inevitable, while causing the menacing shapes to appear even more ominous in the foggy night air.

On the ground next to him, Hermione knelt over Sirius' canine form. From the corner of his eyes Harry could see her hands flying as she assessed the damage wrought by the transformed Professor Lupin. Sirius had engaged the Werewolf to keep the rest of them safe, but the Professor's claws and teeth had torn bleeding gashes along the animagus' malnourished body.

Hopefully it was nothing that could not be healed by Madame Pomfrey; the woman was miracle worker. But even thinking about the possibility of the man dying caused Harry's heart to ache. So great was the pain that it felt as though one of the bony, spectral hands of the Dementors had clutched around the organ, icy cold fingers sending shivers of pain racing throughout his body.

But no, Harry could not allow himself to be distracted. Sirius' state would have to wait; Harry was already fighting a losing battle against the horde of Dementor's that surrounded them, and if he were to fail then all three of them would face a fate worse than death. It was only with a great effort of will that Harry forced the thought from his mind as he concentrated once more on the task before him.

Harry screamed into the night air as he saw the silver stream coming from his wand begin to slow. "Come on, come on. Work already! I can't let Sirius die on me here. Not yet. Not when I've only just found him!"

The young wizard tried to think of happy thoughts, grasping blindly as he searched for one that would allow him to form a Patronus capable of saving them.

The day when he found that he was a wizard rose up. When Harry had learned that he was not a Freak, and that his parents had been wonderful people who had loved him with all of their hearts. The day where Harry first felt that there might be a place within this world where he could find even a tiny shred of happiness.

The silver stream brightened momentarily as the memory surged through him. For a moment it looked like a creature might be forming. That Harry had managed to save them.

Then the silver light began to dim once more.

Of _course_ that memory would not work. Harry mentally berated himself for even trying it. The Dursley's were a part of that memory and their very presence tainted it. Nothing even remotely associated with them could ever be used.

The night he first came to Hogwarts was the next memory which came to mind. Harry recalled sitting in the enchanted boats on the lake, gasping in amazement as he saw the mighty castle glowing in the distance. Of meeting other children his own age who wanted to be his friend, of being welcomed by Professor McGonnagall, and of the thunderous welcome given to him by the entire Gryffindor table upon his sorting.

A short flicker of light bubbled into being. Then it burst, causing the stream of light began to dim even faster.

Memory after memory flashed through Harry's brain as he threw his entire being into the fight.

Flying on a broom for the first time. Winning his first game of Quidditch. Freeing Dobby from the Malfoys. Receiving the album of pictures from Hagrid filled with photos of his parents. Seeing Hermione wake up from the Basilisk's petrification.

All of those and more flew by; yet the light from Harry's wand continued to grow ever more dim.

The Dementors were close, now. Harry could feel their aura pressing in on him. The icy cold grip of fear and terror within his stomach began to rise as he heard the voices of his parents the night Voldemort killed them. The tragic tale and all of the terrible emotions it brought to him began to bubble forth like a poisonous stream.

Harry did not know what to do. He wracked his brain for something, anything, to get them out of this situation. Searching for a memory strong enough to save them, or for some other spell which could take them away. To protect his best friend in the entire world and someone whom he wanted in his life more than anything else.

But nothing else came to mind.

"You can do this Harry. I know that you can." Hermione's calm voice broke through Harry's increasingly panicky mind. Ever reliable and ever steady. "This is only the beginning of our journey together, and there is so much still ahead of us to accomplish."

As if it were buoyed by her confident words, the stream of magic holding the Dementors back began to strengthen. Harry looked down into her calm eyes and saw something which he had failed to see in himself.

That in spite of the dire situation, and in spite of Harry's lack of belief in himself, Hermione's eyes were clear and confident. Harry's best friend truly believed in every word that she had just said. He could see it in her eyes.

A feeling of shame rose within him as Harry tried to reply. "But why, Hermione? Why do you think that?" He desperately fought to keep his voice under control, to contain the fear that he felt. "'Cause I don't know if I have it in me. I can't even make a corporeal Patronus. Let alone one that could chase off so many Dementors!"

"Because I trust you, Harry," Hermione said with a tremulous smile. "I've trusted in you since the day you saved me from that giant troll, and through every one of our adventures since. You've faced worse things than this, and you've never allowed yourself to be beaten. I know that… that you are an amazing wizard… one who will face even greater challenges in the future."

A sign of strain appeared in Hermione's expression while she was speaking. Her eyes grew dilated; her breathing sped up. A bead of cold sweat traced its way down her neck while her slim shoulders started to hunch together.

The power of the Dementors had begun to take its toll on her. Harry's weak Patronus could no longer keep their dread aura fully at bay.

The creatures were nearly close enough to touch. They hovered and shifted within the air, moving closer and then retreating as though they were in a strange, unholy dance. Harry could see the skeletal hands that reached out from their robes as they sought the warmth of living flesh. Hands that would draw them close to the creatures and then gently raise their faces. Bringing the humans in for the dreaded Dementor's Kiss.

"Finish this Harry. Do what…" Hermione struggled to speak as she gasped out her words. "Do… do what you must… and protect…"

Her words cut-off mid-sentence. Hermione's body slumped to the ground with a soft thump as the dark power of the Dementors overwhelmed her mental defences.

Harry gave out a cry of anguish as he watched, helpless and unable to stop it. It was all he could do to keep the thin stream of silver light going; if he were to let it go to rush to her side, then all three of them would perish.

"No. No. No!" The young wizard screamed in rage at the creatures surrounding them. "Not Hermione! You can take my life if you want but you can't take hers! Never! Not while I'm still here."

Hermione had been there for him since the day he met her. She had helped him race to the Philosopher's Stone in year one. She had nearly lost her life last year in order to provide him with the clue he needed to uncover the truth of the Chamber of Secrets. This year she had even risked their friendship in order to keep him safe from himself when Sirius had sent him the Firebolt. And like an utter fool, Harry had almost ended their friendship over a stupid broom.

Like only the best of friends could, she had been for him through thick and thin. He owed her so, so much. And she was right. This would not be the end for them. This time he would not let her down. Harry would fight these monsters. And he would win!

With renewed strength, Harry eyed the creeping forms of the Dementors. The dark-haired boy gripped his phoenix-core wand and summoned every bit of magical energy he possessed, digging it out of his body and shoving it through the wand and into the partial Patronus spell.

Harry might not have a memory happy enough to power the spell, but he _did_ possess a potent well of magic far beyond his age. It was time to let loose the floodgates on it and see what might happen.

Silvery light flared into being, raging out from his wand in a torrent of magical power. The shadowy forms of the Dementors flinched back from the sheer power contained within its glow.

It was the first sign of fear or pain Harry had seen in them that night.

Harry felt a grin stretch the corners of his mouth at the sight. "Yeah, that's right. Can't get us now, can you? Even if it's not complete, it's enough to hurt you guys and make you back away."

He spared a glance at Hermione. His friend's breathing had started to calm as the power of the Dementors began to recede. Sirius' own panted breaths came out more easily, and Harry felt the return of hope.

Help must be on the way. Whether it was Professor Dumbledore, or Professor McGonnagall, surely someone had to be coming for them. The crazy swirl of the Dementors must have been too large to go unnoticed for long. So if Harry were to hold on just a little bit longer, then one of the powerful wizards or witches in the nearby school was certain to come.

As time passed, though, Harry's tight grin began to fade. He had been holding the spell for more than five minutes and there was no sign of anyone coming.

The Dementors were closing in once more. The Dark creatures had backed away from the initial burst of magical light, but had settled into position ten meters away. There they shifted and waited, moving about within an invisible dome as they flew above and around his position.

Harry could feel the magic leaving his body faster than it could replenish itself. He would be able to keep this up for a few more minutes yet, but could not do so indefinitely. Sooner or later his body would run out of magical energy. Sooner or later his power would fail, at which time they Dementors would close in and devour their souls.

No. No! He could _not_ allow that to happen. Harry struggled against the very notion that he would fail. There had to some way out of this mess. There just had to be one!

Even if he could not find a single truly happy memory powerful enough to power the Patronus Charm within his short life, surely one of the adults would come to save them. Like Professor Dumbledore, or maybe Professor McGonnagall. Or even Professor Flitwick. Each of them were quite powerful, and surely s_omebody_ must have noticed the swarm of Dementors swarming by the Forbidden Forest.

Heck, Harry would even take Snape showing up again. The man had ruined everything this evening, but he was still quite powerful in his own right. If it saved Sirius and Hermione, then being indebted to a petty and vindictive man was small change in comparison.

But as the minutes ticked by Harry's hope turned to despair. No one came to save them. No one showed any sign that they even knew that Harry and the others were out here. The woods remained silent as a grave while Harry grew ever weaker.

His breath started to come out in heaving gasps as the magic continued to pour from his body. Cold sweat poured down his brow, covering his body in a silvery sheen that gleamed in the light of his wand.

All the while, the Dementors moved around him in a slow, steady rhythm. Prowling like hunters stalking their prey. Waiting for the moment when his light would fail and cast the world into darkness once more.

Then something began to change.

A feeling deep inside Harry's body, born of need and desire, stirred within his heart. It rose from within the furthest depths of his flesh, his bones – no, his very _soul_. The feeling rose higher, unchained and unlocked, demanding to be heard.

A distant beat began to fill Harry's ears. It was a song of some kind. A tune without words and without sound. Somehow it filled his ears and entered his brain, forcing the change within Harry to accelerate.

The song was _magic_!

Only once before had Harry heard a similar tune. That had been one year ago, back when he had confronted the shade of Tom Riddle within the Chamber of Secrets. Back then it had been Fawkes' Phoenix Song. A melody of hope and love which had lifted Harry up and given him strength he did not know that he had possessed.

But this time was different. This time the song came from within rather than without. And instead of strengthening Harry by giving him courage and hope, as had the Phoenix Song, the feeling that was rising in his body was cold. It felt as desolate as the surface of the moon, colder than the vacuum of space. It made the world feel bright and dull at the same time. As though Harry could see everything in colour one moment, then in only black and white the next.

It continued to grow within him as it rose in both pitch and intensity. Forcing itself to complete its terrible melody. A melody which fought against the laws of nature and magic, against all that was alive and part of this world.

A groan passed his lips as Harry felt his body shudder. A shudder which was reflected within the Dark creatures around him, as the song swept through the ranks of the Dementors.

Whatever this tune was, and however it might be changing him, it was consuming Harry's magic at an exponential rate. His body could not handle casting an overpowered Patronus spell at the same time. Something had to give, and it was the worst thing possible.

The light of Harry's spell soon shut off. The forest surrounding him was plunged into icy darkness. Freed from its aegis, the horde of Dementors swooped in.

Then time froze as four glowing lines of glowing green text floated before his eyes.

**Welcome, Master, to the Game of Death**

**Would you like to play?**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

**A/N:** Thus ends the first chapter of my HP fic. I've taken a few liberties with the end of Book 3, and will be making it steadily more AU as the story progresses – with a few BIG changes in regards to Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Ginny early on. Do not expect the personalities of Harry, Hermione and everyone else to be cloned from canon either, because hey, that's what fan fiction is for ;-).

This story is a bit of an experiment for me. No idea about the chapter length (could be 3k one chapter, 9k the next). I will also be trying to write a Gaming fic where the mechanics of the game are only one of many plot tools, with plot and characterization being the primary plot drivers. Or in other words, a Gaming fic where not everything is viewed through the lenses of the game. Which I don't think that I have ever come across previously, but heck, I'll give it a shot.

I should also probably mention a few sources of inspiration. In addition the obvious inspirations from Harry Potter, D&D, and RPG style video games in general (shout-out to the original NWNs), there are a few HP fanfics and authors that I would like to acknowledge for having helped me to germinate this idea over the years through writing their own stories: _A Grave Misunderstanding_ by McWhite, _The Many Deaths of Harry Potter_ by ShayneT, and _Heart and Soul _by Sillimaure. These three Harry Potter fics are incredible and I highly recommend that you check them out. They are also complete, so huzzah!

Last but not least, this story is a Harem story. And, just so that I am extremely clear, it is _not_ a multi-pairing story, so Harry won't be surrounded by a bunch of lesbian girls who, for some inexplicable reason (possibly related to brain damage or the omnipotent will/power/deus ex machina ability of magic), decided to include one dude in their otherwise all-girl love nest. The romance aspects will be a slow burn for quite some time (13 year old Harry will not be having sexy time with 32 ladies in twelve chapters; nor even in a hundred), as I am saving the romance bit for later when Harry and some of the girls get to more of an acceptable age; expect only teasing for quite some time. I can, and will, confirm that both Hermione and Ginny are in the grouping of 7, each of whom are set in stone. But as for everyone else… RAFO!

So if any of that sounds like your cup of tea, then read on oh brave adventurers, and leave a review or two to let me know how I performed. The next chapter will be out… no idea when. But it's mostly finished already, and I've got drafts done for the next few as well.

Updated on 12/8/2019

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	2. Chapter 2: The Game of Death

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Two: The Game of Death**

With time stopped, Harry did not know how long he stared at those four green lines. It could have been for five minutes. Or it could have been for an eternity.

To be honest, he was completely uncertain as to what they meant. Because the two most likely scenarios involved him being trapped in some kind of magical illusion or that he was dead and that the afterlife was a weirder place than Harry had ever imagined. And while he had no clue as what the afterlife might really be like – he had been raised Christian, but magical society was decidedly Atheist on the subject as far as Harry could tell – Professor Lupin _had _gone into exacting detail with Harry over the various powers and abilities possessed by a Dementor.

Thus, Harry was fairly certain that this could not be a hallucination caused by the Dementors, whom were not known to have the ability to cause hallucinations which did not deal with fear or remembered pain.

What Harry felt right this moment was shock. A shock that was slowly turning to curiosity.

**Welcome, Master, to the Game of Death.**

**Would you like to play?**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

Those four lines of glowing green text hung in the air before him. They seemed rather simple too, like some of those Nintendo games Harry had seen Dudley playing in his room. But that was the most confusing part of it all.

_How on Earth had th__e text __come to be?_

Who had written it? What was its purpose? Why had it chosen him? Why could he not move so much as his eyelid? And how the _hell_ had it appeared in front of him moments before his soul was ripped out by a horde of circling Dementors?

All of these questions and more repeated in an endless loop through Harry's mind as he tried in vain to come up with an answer. Outrageous suppositions like it being God himself, or maybe the great wizard Merlin, popped up in his brain. Only to be summarily dismissed nearly as soon as they had come. Harry doubted that he was important enough to be contacted like this by an almighty and omnipotent being, and according to what Harry knew Merlin had been dead for centuries.

After an unknown amount of time spent staring at the words while his brain ran itself ragged, Harry had had enough. He was no closer to figuring out what might have caused the text to appear than he had been when he had first started trying to figure things out. Without Hermione, or Dumbledore, or access to a giant magical library around to help him out, figuring out those sorts of questions on his own was unlikely to get him anywhere. Harry had always preferred action over thinking anyway.

So, screwing up his courage, Harry stared intently at the letters and thought of his answer.

The text immediately started to change in front of his eyes as the old words faded away and were replaced by a completely different set.

**Ding!**

**You Have Selected 'Yes'**

**Your Tutorial Session will Begin Shortly**

**Clearly State the Word 'Help' to activate the Help Feature if you Find Yourself Confused**

**The Help Feature Exists to Aid the Master (Hereafter Referred to as the Gamer) in Exploring the Many Features and Uses of the Game**

After floating in the air for a few seconds, the second batch of text faded away. A soft, golden glow began to saturate the area in their absence.

Energy returned to his limbs. Harry could even feel his magic began to recover quickly, the power expended when summoning his partial Patronus beginning to refill.

When it was nearly bright enough to be midday, whatever force was binding him released its hold. The first thing Harry did was to blink his eyes and look around.

He was still in the Forbidden forest. The trees and vegetation confirmed it beyond a shadow of any doubt. Hermione and Sirius were nearby, exactly where they had been before the text had appeared' as were the spectral forms of the horde of Dementors. Whom, it would appear, had turned into blots of human shaped darkness instead of being lit up by the golden light.

Everything else looked the same as when the text first appeared. Hermione's slim body lay still. Sirius' blood covered canine form was unmoving. Harry could even see falling leaves hanging in the air, their flight halted.

Staring at the floating leaves clinched one of Harry's suspicions.

It was clear that while whatever time magic that had been affecting his own body had been undone the same could not be said for everything else. It was Harry and Harry alone that could move within this strange, frozen world. All other things, be they leaves or Dementors, were still.

After confirming this observation through a minute of observation, Harry took advantage of the situation to more fully examine his surroundings. First up was giving Hermione and Sirius more than just a quick look; Harry moved closer to check on them.

From what he could tell they had both been caught mid-breath. Hermione's soft face looked as though she had fallen asleep. Her mane of bushy brown hair fell over one side, hiding the left half of her face.

What Harry could see of the girl's right side, though, made him wince. Hermione's mouth was drawn with her lips tightly pursed, while the skin around her eye looked strained. It was clear that she had suffered under the effects of the Dementors even after consciousness had fled.

Seeing her face like that caused a surge of anger to run through Harry's chest. A surge that was only amplified when he looked at Sirius' bleeding body. To see both of them lying in front of him, in such pain, was _unacceptable_.

Whatever this 'tutorial session' thing was, Harry would complete it as fast as possible. He would get his friends out of this and back to Hogwarts where they could find Professor Dumbledore and make things better.

No one would be left behind. Harry swore it.

**Ding!**

**Your Tutorial Session has now Engaged**

**Movement Should Now Be Possible**

**Grasp your Wand and Look Around your Location**

**Point your Wand and Say 'Observe' on any Items or Creatures of Interest**

Harry jumped straight into the air at the sharp ding which rang through his head. The blasted text had come out of nowhere yet again. Only this time a sound loud enough to wake the dead had come along with it.

Had Harry just not noticed the noise previously? Or had it started with this most recent message? It might be a moot point in the grand scheme of things, but with his ears ringing from the painful sound it was certainly a point of interest to Harry as his heart hammered inside of his chest.

Swearing under his breath and questioning whether he had really made the right decision by selecting 'yes,' Harry tried to do as the text had instructed.

Looking around, he saw a Dementor rather close to his position. He pointed his wand at the creature and prepared to say the spell. Then a thought occurred to Harry, causing him to pause and turn around to face the floating text.

"Um, I think that you made a mistake. All spells are in Latin, right?" The text gave no response. "Come on, answer me back! I'm trying to tell you that you made a mistake. Observe can't be a spell right? It's just a normal word."

Still there was no response.

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration. This stupid game thing had just told him to do something that was clearly impossible and now it was not even listening to him! Whomever, or whatever, was behind it had clearly made a mistake considering that it was already broken.

Then Harry remembered something that made him want to hit his head against a wall. Harry opened his mouth and said one word. "Help."

**Ding!**

**Help Feature is now Active**

**What is your Question?**

**All Questions Directed to the Help Feature Must be Spoken Aloud Once the Feature has Been Engaged**

**This Can Only be Changed Once the Gamer has Mastered Silent Spell Casting**

This time Harry managed to somewhat control himself at the ear shattering noise. He only clapped his hands onto his ears instead of jumping a foot into the air.

After a few seconds to gather himself Harry spoke again. "All spells have to be in Latin to work, right?"

**Ding!**

**That is Not True**

**Spells can be Spoken in Any Language Considered to be Magical**

**Well Known Examples Include Latin, Ancient Greek, and Sanskrit**

**Spells may also be Activated or Constructed by use of Written Language**

**Such as by using Nordic Runes, Egyptian Hieroglyphs or the Olmec System**

Harry blinked at the writing as he rubbed his ears to get rid of the resounding echo from the most recent ding. But as annoyed as he was at the noise, the information which came with it was certainly helpful.

That all spells had to be spoken in a 'magical language' was something Harry had not known. In fact he had never even thought about it. The subject had never come up in any of his classes at school, and not even Hermione had mentioned it.

Although it might help to explain why the brainy girl was so interested in her Ancient Runes course. Learning a new way to cast or construct magical spells was pretty cool, now that Harry thought about it.

How Harry wished that he had taken that course – or any other course – rather than taking Divination. That really had been one of his more dumb decisions in life, and if he made it out of this situation alive, he would seriously need to look into whether or not he could switch out of his current Elective to take another one. Ancient Runes and Arithmany were certainly possibilities. There were even rumors that Hogwarts would be offering a number of brand new electives next year that had not been offered in decades.

But before Harry went to his Head of House to ask about switching classes, there were more important things to complete. Such as completing this weird tutorial thing, saving Hermione and Sirius, and making it back alive.

Harry shelved that train of thought and asked the next question which popped into his head. "Is English considered to be a Magical Language?"

**Ding!**

**English Does Not Meet the Requirements to be a Magical Language**

**The Necessary Rituals to Artificially Change this Status Have Not Been Completed**

**Nor is it Inherently Magical**

Well that sucked. Harry had gotten his hopes up, thinking that he might be able to drive the Dementors away by yelling something like 'begone' at them while channeling his magic like some wizard in a muggle fantasy book. Being able to take a shortcut like that instead of having to learn complicated wand movements, spell names, and similar stuff would have been amazing. But alas, it was not to be.

With this odd hope dashed as soon as it had arisen, Harry moved onto his next question. "If that's true, then how can Observe be a spell? I'm pretty sure that observe is an English word and not from one of those other languages you mentioned."

**Ding!**

**Observe is Not a Spell**

**It is a Feature of the Gaming Ability that Only the Gamer can Use**

**When You Use this Feature You Will be Able to See the Various Stats, Traits, Titles, Skills, and Active Effects Present on Any Item or Any Creature Within 100 Levels of Your Own**

**This Restriction has Been Lifted for the Duration of the Tutorial**

Harry stared at that reply. He hadn't the foggiest as to what the thing was even talking about! All that stuff about levels, traits, skills and the rest was as clear as mud to him. It made no sense! What made it feel even worse was that if he were to stay here and keep asking the help feature about all of them, Harry thought that he could be stuck in this tutorial nightmare for the next week.

That could not happen. Even with this weird time freezing going on, being stuck in here alone for that long would drive him nuts.

Harry rubbed his head and tried to focus on what sounded like the most important part of the feature's response. "So, if it's a function of the, uh, gaming ability, why do I need my wand to use it? I don't have to do that when saying 'help.' And what _is_ a Feature anyway?"

**Ding!**

**All Gaming Ability Features Require Magic in Order to be Used**

**Use of a Wand is Required While the Gamer can Only Cast Spells by Using His Wand**

**Use of 'Help,' 'Menu,' and 'Inventory' are the Only Exceptions as they are Internal Functions**

Well that was handy to know. Harry was not sure what 'menu' or 'inventory' might mean, but he guessed that he could probably figure it out later. Of more pressing concern was something that he had not considered since before he had started learning magic at Hogwarts.

A tremor of anticipation flowed through his chest as he asked his next question. "So does that mean I can learn to cast spells without my wand? Isn't that impossible?"

**Ding!**

**It is Possible for the Gamer and Others to Learn how to perform Wandless Magic**

**Wandless Magic is a Branch of Magic that is Difficult and Time Intensive to Learn**

**In Order to Learn Wandless Magic you must Fulfill Three Basic Requirements**

**1) Mastery of Nonverbal Spell Casting**

**2) Mastery of Either the Spell or the School of Magic to Which the Spell Belongs**

**3) Advanced Occlumency**

Harry found this latest answer to be both very useful _and_ incredibly unhelpful. While it meant that he now knew how someone could learn wandless magic, and the Game had showed him how he himself might be able to do it in the future, none of it currently applied to him. At_ all!_

Nonverbal spells were not taught in Hogwarts until the upper years; Harry was far from being passable in any of the different type of magic, let alone a master. He also had no idea what 'basic occlumency' even was or how he could even begin to learn it. For all Harry knew it could be a type of magic not even taught at Hogwarts!

Still, he did his best to shelve the idea just like he had done with the idea about switching classes. Wandless magic and everything associated with it could wait until another day. Rather than playing a game of twenty one questions with the strange text and learning about a type of magic which he was far from being able to perform, Harry focused on what he had already learned and what he still needed to do.

Observe was not a spell but, _like_ a spell, required the use of magic in order to work. And in order for Harry to use his magic he currently needed to use his wand. So, since there was no other way to do it, Harry threw caution to the wind and pointed his wand at the Dementor directly in front of him.

"Observe."

The moment he said the word, Harry felt a tiny wisp of magic leave his body. It felt similar to any of the basic spells Harry had learned to cast in his first year, like _Lumos_ or _Alohamora_. Which was a very good thing, as it meant that he would probably be able to cast it without stop all day long and never grow tired.

**Ding!**

**You Have Identified A Hostile Creature for the First Time**

**Displaying the Results of Your Casting in 15 Seconds**

**In the Future, the Name, Level, and Trait Will be Automatically Displayed the Moment a Successful Observe is Cast**

**If an Observe is Unsuccessful Due to Level Difference or Other Effects the Gamer will Instead See an Error Notification**

Harry shrugged his shoulders at the explanation. He had followed the tutorial's advice and done something for the first time but was not all that excited about it. It just seemed that the less he questioned this strange power the faster things went. So rather than question as to what it meant by either 'Level Difference' or 'Error Notification,' Harry just let it go and waited for the next box of text to appear.

When it finally did appear Harry found himself somewhat surprised. Because unlike the batches of text he had seen thus far, which glowed green and floated in the air, the new text looked different. It was black, neatly written, and placed within a semi-transparent box containing a number of columns and rows much like were common in the muggle world. Harry welcomed this change, as it was easier on his eyes and felt more normal.

**Ding!**

**Now Displaying Dementor Level, Stats, and Traits**

**Dementor**

**Level 999**

**Stats:**

**STR: 1**

**DEX: 1**

**CON: 1**

**INT: 1**

**WIS: 1**

**CHA: 5000**

**Traits:**

**Soul Sucker**

**Aura of Fear**

**Chosen of Death**

**High Spell Immunity**

**Complete Physical Immunity**

**Weakness to Positive Feelings**

All of what appeared before Harry might as well have been in gobbleygook at first glance. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes of questioning the help feature to figure things out. Which was rather reassuring, as all of Professor Binns' lectures on gobbleygook still made no sense even after three years of instruction on the subject.

Each of the various fields that had appeared in the air – or categories as Harry was told by whatever it was that he was actually dealing with – referred to a physical or mental trait. 'STR', 'DEX', and 'CON' referred to a creature's physical abilities; or their strength, dexterity, and constitution to be exact. 'INT' and 'WIS' referred to the mental abilities of intelligence and wisdom, while the 'CHA' category referred to the spiritual category of charisma. In turn, the numbers next to them represented a close numerical approximation of how powerful the creature or person was in each category, with higher numbers being more powerful than lower numbers.

The Game even listed out how each attribute affected him. Which was useful, because according to the damn thing Harry would only get five attribute points to spend whenever he grew stronger by leveling up.

_**Strength:**_

_Denotes a creature's physical strength. Affects only the physical attributes. Humans have a soft cap of 80, after which all gains give diminishing returns._

_**Dexterity:**_

_Denotes how nimble a creature can be. Affects things like speed, agility, hand-eye coordination, and wand manipulation. Humans have a soft cap of 100, after which all gains give diminishing returns._

_**Constitution:**_

_Denotes how much health and endurance a creature can possesses. Affects how much direct damage the person can take before being killed or rendered unconscious. Humans have a soft cap of 70, after which all gains give diminishing returns._

_**Intelligence:**_

_Denotes the intelligence of a creature. Creatures with high intelligence find it easier to learn new abilities and/or magic spells. Humans have no cap on this attribute._

_**Wisdom:**_

_Denotes how intuitive a person can be. Characters with high wisdom make better logical deductions and regain spent magic faster. Humans have no cap on this attribute._

_**Charisma:**_

_Denotes how charismatic a character is. Characters with higher charisma have larger sources of magical power, can better resist outside forces, and possess an intuitive grasp over its usage. Humans have no cap on this attribute._

Harry was not quite sure what soft cap meant, but because it was only present on the physical attributes gave Harry a fairly good idea. It meant that unless he somehow changed into something other than human, he would not become someone like Superman. Which was fine with him, as Harry had no idea what he would do if he could jump tall buildings and run faster than a normal eye could follow. He was a wizard, and was quite happy with being one.

Traits, meanwhile, were special abilities possessed by whoever or whatever had them and could grant special bonuses, such as increasing the trait holder's attributes or increasing their ability to learn new spells. According to the Game's help feature, traits could range from something common like 'Green Thumb Gardener' to more uncommon things such as 'Natural Detective', or something more magical like a 'Metamorphagus.' Which, while Harry had no idea what it was, sounded really cool.

There was more to it as well. The Help feature mentioned things skills, spell mastery progress, personal reputation and relationship tracking, and affection levels, but any acknowledgment beyond their existence was driven from his head. Because after the explanation on what stats and traits meant Harry had looked back at the Dementor's stats page and was filled by sheer terror.

The creature had over five thousand points in one attribute!

To make things worse, it also possessed some truly nasty traits that made Harry's eyes bulge.

After asking the Help feature what they meant Harry was informed that he could learn by tapping on them with his fingers. Another tap would minimize it, and if he wanted to he could even automatically minimize all notifications except for urgent or mandatory ones.

Harry had immediately turned on this automatic ability – which, of course, only applied until he had finished this blasted tutorial – and had then tapped on most of them in turn.

**Aura of Fear**

_A Dementor has the ability to cause any living creature within a radius of fifty meters to feel fear. The degree to which a creature is affected generally depends on proximity to the Dementor. Sentient creatures can be further affected if they have suffered traumatic events. Sentient creatures that have performed Dark Magical rituals can lessen the Aura's effects or even gain total immunity to it. Those with higher levels of Charisma have been shown to be more resistant to its effects._

**Weakness to Positive Feelings**

_A Dementor is naturally weak to one thing and one thing alone: Positive Feelings. They tend to avoid areas and locations populated by groups of positive feelings. The Patronus Charm, which is the crystallized essence of happiness, takes advantage of this weakness. The spell radiates an amplified field of happiness that cannot be overcome by a Dementor's Aura of Fear or Spell Resistance, as a corporeal Patronus is neither a living creature nor a spell cast directly upon the Dementor._

Well, those were two interesting tidbits. The first trait finally gave proof that people like Harry, who had suffered a traumatic event in their past, were likely to be more susceptible to Dementors than others, like Hermione, who had never suffered a similar level of trauma. The second trait even explained why the Patronus charm was the only spell which worked against them!

For some reason, though, the 'Chosen of Death' trait was garbled whenever he tried to bring it up. After asking why this had happened Harry was told that it was an error. So he just put it from his mind and pushed onward.

The spell and physical immunity traits were virtually self-explainable… while Harry chose to leave the Soul Sucker trait untapped. Some things he wanted to keep to his imagination and not learn about if at all possible. Maybe he would read it on some other night in the future. Such as a night where he was not worried about it happening to either him or his companions.

As to Dark Magic countering the Aura's effects, well, that explained why Voldemort was able to get along with them during the first war. Knowing him, the evil wizard was probably completely immune to it. The Dementors would probably avoid giving him the Kiss even if he walked up to one and asked it nicely.

Now _that _was a nice thought which caused Harry to smile. It was not pleasant enough to generate a Patronus, but was a pleasant one nonetheless.

Unfortunately, learning all of that was less than useful to a Harry that was still unable to actually cast a corporeal Patronus. Which, now that he had a basic idea of his strange new ability and the weaknesses of his opponents, meant that Harry's next line of questioning was fairly clear.

"How can I learn to cast the Patronus charm in time to save my friends?"

**Ding!**

**Main Tutorial Quest:**

**Cast a Corporeal Patronus**

**Learn How to Cast a Corporeal Patronus Before the End of the Tutorial**

**Reward: End of Tutorial and Continued Living**

**Penalty for Failure: Death of Friends and Self**

**Do you Accept?**

**Yes or No**

Harry promptly selected 'no.'

"As if I would accept that quest!" Harry yelled at the green text; the stuff was stubbornly refusing to disappear even after he had denied it. "Do you really think that I could ever accept something that might cause Hermione or Sirius to get killed? I would never do that to my friends! Any of them!"

**Ding!**

**Help Feature has Been Forcibly Activated**

**All Quests in the Tutorial are Mandatory and Must be Accepted**

**If a Quest is not Accepted then Time Will Freeze**

**Ding!**

**A Tutorial Quest has been Rejected**

**Seconds until Time Freeze: 30… 29… 28...**

The rapid fire dings flashed in front of Harry's eyes nearly simultaneously. The intent of which was rather clear; the tutorial was not giving him a choice in this matter. If Harry did not accept the quest, then he would be returned to the same state he was in before he had accepted the offer to play this game in the first place.

While it meant that nothing bad would happen as everything would stay frozen in time… it also meant that nothing good would happen either. Which in turn meant that Hermione and Sirius would continue to be in danger. An outcome which was unacceptable.

It was with a shaky hand that Harry selected the 'yes' option.

**Ding!**

**Quest Accepted**

**Step One:**

**State 'Spells' and Select Patronus from the Resulting Menu**

**Step Two:**

**Cast the Spell**

After a puzzled question of 'what is a menu,' Harry found the Patronus spell listed under his skills page. It was listed there along with every other spell Harry had practiced, read about, or even heard in passing. Most of the ones he had practiced in class or with Hermione seemed to be fairly far along, while the ones Harry had only heard about in passing

After selecting it, Harry finally knew what he had been doing wrong all along.

**Patronus Spell**

**Mastery Level: 99/100**

_A powerful and advanced charm that is used to drive away Dementors or communicate with one's allies. This spell is the crystallized essence of a wizard or witch's happiest memory._

_Harry Potter has nearly mastered this spell in its entirety. The only thing keeping him from being able to cast one of the most powerful corporeal patronuses humanly possible is a lack of confidence in his own abilities._

"I should have listened to Hermione," Harry muttered as he stared at the black writing. "She told me that I could do it. She said that she believed in me and I knew that she meant it. But did I believe in myself? Or trust in her judgment? No. And I almost got her and Sirius killed because of it."

Harry took a deep breath. Now that that was settled he knew that he could cast a perfect Patronus. He would trust in Hermione's words and trust in himself. Doing so would allow him to save his friends. The tutorial would end, and life would continue.

Harry jolted as something else occurred to him. Wait! The tutorial would end. So would the 'help' feature end as well? Would observe, and the stats, and everything else leave too? And something that he probably should have asked a lot sooner, what _was_ a tutorial in the first place?

Would the Game of Death end if the tutorial ended, and everything he had experienced thus far seem like a dream?

Harry did not know the answers to any of these questions, but he knew how to find them. He had even started to get used to the noise caused by all of the dings when using the help feature.

**Ding!**

**Help is a Feature and will be Limited to Explanations Regarding the Other Features of the Game and their Contents Upon Completion of the Tutorial**

**It Will Remain Present as Part of the Game Upon Completion of the Tutorial**

**Ding!**

**Observe is a Feature and will be Limited to Persons, Creature, and Items Within 100 Levels of the Gamer Upon Completion of the Tutorial**

**Ding!**

**Stats are a Feature of the Game and will Remain in their Current Form Upon Completion of the Tutorial**

**Ding!**

**A Tutorial is the Segment of a Game During Which the Gamer(s) Learns how to Interact and Understand the Game and its User Interface Which Generally Takes Place in a Non-Deadly Environment**

Alright! Everything he did here would continue forward. Including the Game of Death itself. The only things that would change would be that the world around him would return to normal and that the help feature would be restricted to informing him about his own abilities.

Harry thanked his lucky stars for whatever twist of fate brought this new ability to him. With its help, he would be able to save himself and two of the people he most cared for in this world. The consequences if he did not have it, and if nature had taken its course, were too terrible for Harry to consider.

After a quick read through of the text to make sure that he understood everything correctly, Harry nodded and closed the text boxes as the help feature had taught him. He double checked to make sure that they were closed and not minimized, because he did not want anything popping up in his field of vision when he was fighting the Dementors.

Once the boxes boxes were closed Harry took a deep breath into his lungs. He let it out, then took another. A nervous energy ran through his body.

He could do this. He knew that he could do this. He _would_ do this.

It was with renewed confidence in himself and his ability that Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the closest Dementor. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

**A/N:** I decided to go with 'patronuses' instead of 'Patroni' as the plural of Patronus because that's what J.K. Rowling did.

As anyone who has ever played D&D or a stats based video game can tell you, 5000 attribute points in one category is beyond terrifying. It's past the realm of godlike and well into the realm of DBZ style power escalation. A.K.A. something along the lines of 'this mountain will be destroyed because I flexed my eyebrow three planets away.' I compensated for this by purposefully nerfing every one of the other stats they had and including a 'hidden' trait of sorts... but it is still kind of ridiculous. Which is also why I also put in their critical weakness to the Patronus Charm as I do not intend for the Dementors to be the uber-powered ultimate enemy for Harry to face.

However, the biggest reason why I have included – and displayed – these sorts of stats is for the specific reason that most gamer fics do not account for the upper levels that the MC can – and will – inevitably reach by the story's conclusion. So Harry, or Naruto, or whomever else it is that happens to be 'the gamer' generally ends up being ridiculously OP way too soon, causing the story to lose all sense of thrill. That, or it can force the author to revamp their entire statistical basis for the characters in an attempt to balance things out.

In my mind it's smarter to start out with an example of 'this thing can only be beaten at max level or close to it' than it is to show a weak and easily beaten enemy. Establish that the moon is beyond the limits of the sky and you can then allow yourself to go utterly wild in attempting to reach it. (For those of you who do not know the history, read up on what the American and Soviet governments did in their attempts to be the first to reach the moon; it's some pretty insane stuff).

Also, and this is important, in my story Harry is completely inexperienced when it comes to games and their mechanics. He is a noob who does not even know what it means to be a noob. So expect him to miss things that would be obvious to longtime gamers as this will very much be done on purpose. For instance: Harry forgot to cast observe on Sirius (as well as Hermione and himself) while in the tutorial setting. And since Sirius is certainly more than 100 levels higher than Harry, this in turn means that Harry will no longer be able to cast the spell on him until he raises his level significantly.

Some people will probably also ask "but wait, what about the time turner shenanigans that Harry and Hermione did in canon? Did they still happen?" The answer to that is no. Buckbeak saved himself at the opportune moment and is living in the wild, Snape was able to find his way to the Shrieking Shack on his own, and everything else that happened also happened in a way that did not need deus ex machina time turner assistance. I currently want Harry kept in the dark about the Time Turner as I have some serious plans involving it for Year 4.

The only giant difference between the results of that night in my fic versus the events in canon is that Sirius was never captured by Snape, thus allowing for a different pathway to be taken. I've also made some AU changes to books 1 and 2, but mostly on minor stuff that will not be obvious except to devoted fans of the HP universe, and only one of which will be making an appearance anytime soon. I am taking this story into AU territory as fast as I can, so expect more changes on the horizon.

Updated 12/08/2019

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	3. Chapter 3: Expecto Patronum

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Three: Expecto Patronum**

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the closest Dementor. "_Expecto__ Patronum_!"

With the force of a raging volcano, a massive silver stag burst forth from Harry's want. It raced towards the targeted Dementor, its antlered head dropped down low as if to impale the Dark creature on the pointed tips.

As the great beast charged forth, the world began to change once more.

The soft golden light disappeared, returning Harry to the dark moonlit night of the Forbidden Forest. The leaves which had been frozen in the sky feel began to flutter once again. The sound of a howling wind and the dampness of fog touched Harry's skin even as they caused the hem of his robes to flutter in the damp air.

"_Skraaa!_"

The shrieks of the Dementors facing the bright charge of his Patronus tore into Harry's brain. He slapped his hands against his ears in an attempt to drown it out. It was worse than the dings; worse even than the howls from Riddle's diary when Harry had plunged the Basilisk fang into it.

Yet Harry did not care. For even as they shrieked the Dementors were fleeing the area faster than Harry could track. The mighty silver stag raced around their dark forms, hastening their retreat as it marked a clear boundary of safety that no Dementor dared approach. The great beast formed by magic stamped its silver hooves into the dirt and raised its eyes in challenge to the those few still slow to flee. These Dementors hastened their escape as it turned towards them, their continuing shrieks of pain echoing from the distance.

The stag gave a loud snort as it watched them depart, stamping its great hooves in victory. Formed by magic to protect and defend, the creature had routed those who would harm to its creator.

It was only when the last sound from the screeching Dementor's had ceased that the Patronus disappeared in a flash of light, its purpose complete.

Quiet returned to the forest, and with it a return to normality. The wind in the air was less harsh. The fog in the air less cloying.

The ever present feeling of despair, brought by the Dementors very presence, was gone.

It had worked. Thanks to Hermione's words of encouragement, and the timely assistance of the Game, no one had died or lost their soul. Harry had saved Hermione and Sirius!

A soft noise caught Harry's attention as his spirit rose in relief over his victory. Turning his head, he could see Hermione begin to stir from her place on the ground. Knowing Hermione as Harry did, the girl would soon wake, with a barrage of questions soon to follow. Something which Harry actually welcomed for once, and not just because he needed her intelligence in order to figure out what on Earth was going on with him with the arrival of the Game of Death.

The largest, and most important, reason of all was because it would mean that his best friend was _alive_.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hit Harry as he watched over her. He stumbled to his knees, his vision swimming. Several soft dings went off simultaneously in his ear and Harry saw multiple tiny boxes appear from the corner of his eyes.

What felt like minutes passed as Harry fought to stay awake. Tremors ran through his body as a feeling of exhaustion he had only felt during his fights against Quirrell and the Basilisk ran through his muscles. It dug into his muscles and organs, like a thousand needles crawling all over his skin and inside of his body. Harry could hear Hermione calling out to him, but the girl sounded as though she were miles away as an overwhelming feeling of vertigo assaulted his senses.

It took every gram of willpower Harry possessed not to fall unconscious as wave after wave of exhaustion hit his body. Brought on by magical overexertion, Harry had felt this pain twice before and had fallen unconscious both times. But Harry did his best to fight through it this time, keeping his eyes focused on a single blade of grass as he held to one thought.

That even though the greatest danger was gone, things were not yet safe. Sirius still needed Harry's help to get him medical treatment, while both he and Hermione might need Harry in case the Dementors came back.

Eventually the feelings of vertigo and needles began to subside. A feeble stream of magic, far lesser in size and strength than normal, began to grow in Harry's body. With its soothing presence Harry slowly began to move, raising his head in an attempt to look around.

Two slim hands grabbed his face and held it level. Hermione's soft brown eyes bore into his emerald orbs as the girl looked him over worriedly.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay? Can you hear me?" She asked frantically, her brown eyes wide with worry. "You don't look well. You – well, you look terrible actually, but you did it, Harry! You cast the Patronus Charm and saved us! I knew that you had it in you; I just knew it!" Her small hands trembled as they held him. "But are you okay? Can you hear me? Harry!"

With strength returning every second, a weakened Harry managed to wave a hand and nod. "Yeah, yeah I can. I can hear you Hermione." A wince ran through him as he pushed her hands away from his face and moved into a sitting position. "But you're right; I'm really not feeling too good at the moment."

That was an understatement. Because even as he said it, Harry could feel his stomach start to heave. The feeling of needles might be gone, and the vertigo may have stopped affecting his brain, but it was still going strong in Harry's stomach. "Just… just give me a moment and I'll be right as rain."

Harry then turned his head and proceeded to heave out what felt like every last bit of breakfast, lunch, and dinner he had eaten for the past few days. It came out in great chunks at first, only to taper off into a thin rivulet of liquid after the fourth heave.

The battle to keep it all in had been lost before Harry could even try to resist it. He felt Hermione place a hand on his lower back as he heaved it all out, rubbing small circles into it as if to comfort him.

Oddly enough, it did help.

Several minutes later after the final heave had ended and Harry was certain that nothing else would be coming up the same path, the green-eyed boy who lived wiped his mouth with a sleeve. A sheepish look was on his face as he stared at his best friend from the corner of his eyes.

"Uh, sorry that you had to see that, Hermione," Harry said in embarrassment. "After saving the two of you from a bunch of evil soul suckers, it's probably not very cool to just throw up like that."

Hermione shook her head. "It's alright Harry. We've all done it before. Besides," the girl said with a wry smile. "I think that escaping near death at the hands of a flock of Dementor's gives you a free pass on things like that."

"But _you_ didn't do that just now."

Harry regretted saying those words immediately. They were petty and insecure; instead of acting petulant, he should have just been happy that his best friend was still alive and next to him.

"You're right. I did not heave my guts out like that," Hermione said in a small voice. "Instead I collapsed on the ground next to you like a damsel in distress, forcing you to save me from some dreaded magical creature for the third time in three years."

She wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off the lingering cold. "It's a terrible pattern, Harry, and I hate how it makes me feel. But the Dementors made me feel so weak and small in the face of everything. As though my entire existence was just… insignificant." Hermione raised her eyes to look into his own as tears formed within their depths. "I don't know how you do it Harry. How you keep facing these insane horrors year after year. All without going crazy, or dying, or worse! And I'm just so, so terrified that one of these years your luck is going to run out. And that when it happens, my best friend will be gone. Forever."

A lull fell between between them after Hermione's fearful confession. Harry opened his mouth to reply. But he did not know what to say, and after a while shut his mouth in uncomfortable silence.

He did not know what he could say, but he did know that saying all of that would only make Hermione worry even more for him. How could Harry explain to her that everything he did when he was placed into those kind of situations just… happened.

That it was usually not done on purpose. That often times, it was just a lot of luck and a lot of help from someone else. And that without that luck even Harry knew that he would have been dead a dozen times over.

A soft ding from the Game rang out the instant Harry bit back the response. The noise startled him, causing him to flinch.

Misreading his jump, Hermione reached over to grasp onto his shoulders. "No, you don't need to say anything. It's not your fault, Harry; _none_ of it is your fault. I wasn't mad or anything when I said that just now. I'm just tired, and scared, and really, really happy that you've saved me yet again. I… I guess that my emotions are just all over the place right now."

A tremulous smile came over Hermione's face as the tears in her eyes began to flow. "And just to be clear, Harry, I am glad that you keep on saving me. As a matter of fact, I'm really, really, _really_ thankful for it. You're my best friend in the entire world, and nothing that can happen will ever change this fact."

The bushy haired girl shook her head as if to shake off the tears running down her cheeks, but met with limited success. The tears still fell, only now they had scattered across her cheeks instead of running in two thin rivulets. "It's just that, oh, I don't know for sure, but I'm probably like this right now because I wish that I didn't _need_ to be saved. I want to be strong, both for myself and for _you_, Harry. Because bad things keep happening to you for no good reason, and because you deserve someone that is able to help protect you from them. Not someone like me who just keeps getting in the way, who needs you to come rescue her all of the time."

Harry stared at Hermione's tearful face in dumbstruck awe.

He had seen many expressions on her face over the years. He had seen her contemplative, like when she worked on a particularly tricky essay. Or happy, like when the two of them bantered with one another during meals at the Great Hall.

He had even seen her sad, such as when he had gotten upset with her over this past year over the way she had handled his Firebolt situation. But even with all of that experience Harry had never seen her like this. Ever.

Right now Hermione was looking at him with tears running down her face. And they were not from anger, or from sadness either, not really, but from something else entirely. Something Harry did not know how to describe. But he knew that he needed to act, to respond to her, to not just let this go unnoticed or unanswered.

Harry reached out to Hermione and gathered her into a tight hug. He burrowed his head into her shoulder and felt her do the same with him. Her own grip at least twice as tight as his own.

"You don't need to worry like that Hermione," Harry said as he squeezed her gently. "You are the strongest girl that I know, the smartest one for sure, and quite possibly the bravest one too."

It was the honest to goodness truth. No other girl or woman Harry knew, save perhaps for Professor McGonagall, was as brave or smart as the one in his arms. It was a fact of life, just as the Earth existed along with the Sun and the Moon.

Hermione Granger was brilliant and brave, even if she did not realize it herself. Perhaps it was time that Harry let her know. He even knew how to say it.

"It was you who gave me the strength to cast the spell tonight," Harry said gently, putting as much emotion into his words as he possibly could. "Without your encouragement I never would've been able to cast the spell. I would've failed on my own, and then all three of us would have died. So thank you Hermione. Thank you for being my friend, and thank you for being there to guide me when I have needed you most." Harry clutched at her tight enough to put the girl's patented hugs to shame. "I might have saved you, but if I did then you saved me as well."

Those words were the honest to goodness truth. The Game may have given him the time Harry needed to get over that final hump and cast the spell, but it had been Hermione who had given him the final push he needed. The Patronus Charm was powered by positive feelings, the type that Harry felt whenever he was around the bushy-haired girl he now held in his arms.

A Harry without Hermione was just wrong and could not exist. But a Harry with Hermione could overcome any and all obstacles put in their way.

A quiet sob reached Harry's ears as he felt Hermione nod against him. Her voice was a thick whisper when she spoke. "Just remember those pretty words the next time I send a mysterious package you receive from an unknown sender to one of the Professors. Okay Harry?"

Harry could not resist putting a little cheek into his response to lighten the moment. "And what makes you think that that'll ever happen again?"

"Because you are Harry James Potter, you _prat_, and because _nothing_ is impossible where you are concerned."

Harry smiled and gave a soft laugh. "Maybe so, but hopefully next year and this summer will be a little easier. No crazy shenanigans for me please; just a normal, yet magical, life is all that I want."

"Mm hm. I will only believe _that_ when I see it, Mr. Potter."

Both laughed softly at Hermione's words. Hermione rarely called him Mr. Potter, and only when she wanted to lighten up her words. Even so, there was more truth in them than Harry wanted to admit. A fact which held true even before he had received a mysterious new ability in the form of the Game of Death.

The two young teenagers held each other close for a while longer. Then, as if moving on a signal, each let go of the other. Stronger for having shared what was on their minds, Harry felt, and feeling comforted by the knowledge that the other would always be there for them.

Hermione dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her robe. When the brilliant girl spoke again it was in a much stronger, more firm, tone of voice. Much closer to her usual tone. "Now that the Dementors are gone, Harry, and we are safe for the moment, what do you think we should do? I don't know much about first aid, either magical or mundane, but I do know that Sirius needs to be treated for his wounds. I did a spell to slow the bleeding, but that's all I know."

Those words were like someone had placed Harry's hand against an electric socket. In his haste to cast a Patronus, and his confusion over his new power and the talk with Hermione, Harry had forgotten about Sirius' wounds. Looking over, he could see them shining where moonlight touched patches of wet blood.

Harry did not know much about first aid either, but those wounds looked bad. Sirius might have the form of a massive canine, but he had not looked to be in good condition even before he had tangled with Professor Lupin's werewolf form. That weakness, coupled with the wounds, probably meant that things were terrible.

Harry looked up. "So what should we do?"

"Ideally?" Hermione's brow furrowed in thought as she took her time replying. "Well, ideally we would have a way to either call for help or to heal his wounds with magic. But since neither of those are possible, I think that the next best option is to have one of us stay here while the other fetches help from the Castle."

Harry immediately shook his head in denial at the suggestion. He would not abandon the two of them in the woods while he went to get help, while the idea of Hermione walking through the dangerous woods of the Forbidden Forest on her own, in the middle of the night no less, was utterly terrifying. Harry knew that she was strong – he had just told her as much – but that was only for a 3rd year wizard.

This place was called the _Forbidden_ Forest for a very good reason. A _very_ good reason, one to which Harry could personally attest. As between the Acromantula, the Centaurs, and who knew _what_ else, the magical forest held dangers around every corner.

Harry told her as much, only to have the girl shake her head at him.

"I am sorry Harry, but that is our only option. So which will it be?" Hermione's determination held firm against his denial. "Do you want to stay here with Sirius? Or should I stay here while you get help? It is your call Harry, but the choice needs to be made soon."

"No." Harry sad emphatically as he shook his head. "There has to be another way. One that we haven't considered."

"There isn't Harry. So choose. Please."

Harry pounded a fist into the ground in frustration as Hermione stared at him with pleading eyes, his mind whirling as he considered the possibilities. Was there a spell they had learned that could do it? Not that Harry could remember, and Hermione definitely had a better head for things like this than he did.

Maybe he could call for Fawkes, or Hedwig. Or maybe Harry could even use his Patronus Charm to send a message just like the Game… had… said…

For an instant Harry felt as though he were just as dumb as Malfoy. But only for an instant, as his embarrassment and frustration with himself quickly turned to elation.

The Game! It had already given him the solution! And Harry had recovered just enough magic to do it too! It would hurt him to cast the spell in his weakened state, but unlike earlier Harry did not need to pump enough magic into the spell to fight off a horde of Dementors.

Eyes widening in excitement, Harry shot to his feet with his wand raised high. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

The large silvery stag burst forth once more, rushing out and filling the forest with a silvery white gleam. But Harry had no eyes for it and focused on the slim hope he had just remembered, battering aside a throbbing headache from having cast magic in his weakened state. "Hey, um, stag spirit, uh, sir… is it possible for you to carry a message to someone and lead them back to us?"

The silver stag nodded its antlered head. Harry felt a cold wave of relief pour through him at the confirmation. The Game had been right yet again.

Behind him, Harry heard Hermione give a gasp as she realized what he was about to do.

"Brilliant!" Harry said in joy. "Then this is what I need you to do. I need you to find Professor Dumbledore and tell him that Hermione and I are okay; that we are trapped in the Forbidden woods; and that we have a very special and badly hurt dog in need of _serious _medical attention. With an emphasis on the 'serious' portion of the message. Got it?"

The great silver animal nodded its head once again and flew into the sky. It moved faster and faster as it sped towards its distant target, moving out of sight quicker than Harry could track.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to flash Hermione a grin. "See Hermione? I told you that there would be another –"

Whatever else he had been about to say was cut off as Hermione tackled him to the ground. A wave of pain followed the hit as his best friend sat on top of him, squeezing him with a death grip as questions poured out of her mouth. That was manageable, but what really worried Harry was that she would squeeze him hard enough for his stomach to start doing round two of its earlier performance.

"Harry, that was bloody brilliant!" Hermione yelled enthusiastically as her warm brown eyes shone in the moonlight. "How did you know that a Patronus could carry a message like that? Is it something that all Patronuses can do? Is it unique to just yours? Oh! If it's something that all Patronuses can do, is it like a seventh sense? Or like a secret magical ability that you can now do at will? Oh, you just have to tell me, Harry! It's just so amazing!"

Harry tried to tell her, but the girl's powerful grip on his chest was cutting off his supply of air and leaving him unable to answer her questions. For better or worse the vulnerable Hermione of a few minutes ago was gone, while ferocious bookworm Hermione was back with a vengeance.

"I mean, I read up on the charm the moment I knew that that was what you were learning from Professor Lupin," the girl continued to say at a breakneck pace, "and pretty much everyone out there said that it was really difficult to cast, but that it was the only thing that worked against a Dementor. But nothing I read in any of the books – and you know me, I read every book that I could get my hands on – not one of them even mentioned it. Not even once! So just how did you think of that? Because that was bloody brilliant!"

Pushing against her grip with all of his might, Harry finally managed to gasp out a reply. "Hermione, I can't breathe! Let go of me so that I can tell you!"

Hermione let go of his neck with an embarrassed squeak. Her pretty face flushed just as red as Harry felt his own must be, though hers was probably due to embarrassment rather than from a lack of oxygen.

Rubbing his aching ribs, Harry gave his excitable friend another smile. It felt good to have her back to normal. "I can answer your question, Hermione, but you've got to promise me something first."

"Anything Harry. You know that you can trust me. So just go on and tell me how you did it already!"

"Uh uh. Not this time," Harry said as he shook his head. "First you need to swear. I know that I can trust you Hermione, but this is something important. It needs to stay just between the two of us until I can figure more things out. Or maybe just us, Ron, and Dumbledore. Okay?"

Hermione impatiently nodded her head and swore that she would keep it a secret before motioning for Harry to hurry up with it.

"You see, the truth is that tonight I –"

For the second time that night whatever Harry had been about to say was lost forever. Appearing in a flash of brilliant red-orange flames was Albus Dumbledore, one hand holding onto Fawke's tail. The old man's sparkling blue eyes lit up when he saw them, and Harry felt his remaining nerves begin to settle.

Now that Dumbledore was here, everything would be okay.

**A/N:** I finished this puppy early and did not feel like holding it in reserve. It's actually a split chapter, and the second half of it will be posted tomorrow after I edit it some more. The entire thing was sitting around a comfortable 7k words, but it needed to be split to achieve a better flow. Expect tomorrow's release to be on the shorter side unless my edits lengthen it considerably.

Hopefully my description of Harry tossing his cookies didn't bug anyone out. One of the many issues that I have with fan fiction – and many published works as well, actually – is that they tend to ignore basic physical issues. When people are in stressful situations (especially life and death ones relating to combat) throwing up is a normal. Soldiers, policemen, and firemen – even seasoned veterans – in real life do it quite often as it is a natural physical response to the combination of stress and exertion placed upon a person's body. Expect more things like that to happen to the characters in this story (such as massive explosions causing characters to suffer disorientation due to the resulting sound and pressure affecting their inner ear and sense of balance) as I will try to explore that angle when it comes to action scenes.

I do hope that the emotional scene between Harry and Hermione felt organic; I tried hard on it, but am not sure how it turned out. To me it felt like another way that things could have gone. A way where Harry and Hermione both stayed awake after the emotionally exhausting series of events they had experienced that evening. And, since they are currently young teenagers, I decided to throw a dash of angst/emotional turbulence to keep things somewhat realistic.

Updated on 12/09/2019

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	4. Chapter 4: Anger

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Four: Anger**

"Everything is not okay!" Harry yelled as he paced in the Headmaster's office. "How can Fudge _still_ not believe that Sirius is innocent?"

Two hours after Dumbledore had rescued them found a tired and angry Harry pacing through the Headmaster's office. It was now early in the morning, his body hurt all over from using too much magic, and he desperately wanted to check on both Ron and Sirius to see if they were okay. But the whirlwind events of the past two hours had taken the dampened fire within Harry and raised it to a raging inferno.

All thanks to one man. A man that had shot past Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, and everyone not named Voldemort, Wormtail, Dursley or Snape to the top of Harry's list of people he most wanted to punch.

"Of all the arrogant, small minded, useless, _bureaucrat__ic_ nonsense to spout!" Hermione spluttered out from her seat in front of the Headmaster's desk. "That man is supposed to be our highest government official! But he… he _acted_ with all of the intelligence and poise of a _spoilt child!_ How can the magical world possibly elect such a… a… blithering_idiot_ to be its international representative?"

Hermione's lips were pursed together so hard that they were nearly transparent from blood loss whenever she was not yet speaking. The brilliant girl's eyes were nearly spitting fire as she too had been enraged by the Minister's conduct. Her anger fed directly into Harry's, making his temper flare even higher.

"Was his best excuse really 'well, the Ministry has always done things this way, and it's always been right before, so it has to be right this time too'?" Harry growled out. "Was that _really_ the best thing that he could come up with? Because that has _got_ to be the most disgusting pile of dragon dung I have _ever_ smelt!"

"And the way he looked at us, staring at Harry and me as if we were a pair of lost children too stupid to tell one end of a wand from another…"

"I believe that is enough for one evening, Ms. Granger, Harry." A curt, aged voice cut off the angry words of the two angry young teens midstream. "We may have lost that particular battle tonight, but things are not quite so dire as they might seem. We have bought ourselves both the time and allies with which we need to win the war. And rather than focus on what has gone wrong this evening, I believe that we should instead focus our attention on what went right."

Dumbledore's words helped to focus Harry's attention, but only so much as the glare he had been drilling into an imaginary Fudge was switched to the Headmaster. The emerald eyed wizard was furious at what had happened to his godfather. With only Hermione and Dumbledore in the room, and Hermione just as angry as Harry, it was the elderly Headmaster who now drew the younger wizard's ire.

"And so what, Professor?" Harry ground out. "Should we just be glad that we were all able to avoid the Dementor's Kiss? Even after Fudge brought one of those… those _things_ in with him to do it to Sirius? If you and I had not shot off our Patronuses, Professor, then Sirius might be worse than dead right now. And as things stand they are _still_ going to try shipping him back to Azkaban. Aren't they? I don't _care_ if we might get him out of there by following the legal process; he's my godfather, he's innocent, and he should never have been sent there in the first place!"

Dumbledore raised a hand to stem the flow of Harry's building tirade. "I completely agree with your sentiments on the matter. And with those expressed by the lovely Ms. Granger as well. But you must take a step back so that you may better understand the current position in which we have fortunately found ourselves."

Harry whipped his head around. This time he was not imagining Fudge's face. No, for perhaps the first time in his life Harry truly glared at the old man in front of him.

"We're fortunate?" Harry hissed in rage. "_How?_ How can having my godfather taken away by a bunch of Aurors _possibly_ be good?"

"Because the person who was in charge of the arresting Aurors, Harry, and who was also present with me when your exemplary Patronus arrived from the forest, was none other than the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones."

"And why should that matter?" Harry snapped as he continued to pace. "Why should I care about her? All that means is that she's highly placed in the Ministry, right? She'll probably cave in to Fudge the instant he pressures her to send Sirius back to prison, or maybe even help the miserable miser cut out the middleman and have my godfather Kissed by a Dementor right in the Ministry's holding cell!"

By this point in time Harry was seeing red. Fudge, the Ministry, Wormtail, the Dementors… this evening had tried him more than any other night in his life, and Harry had had enough. He knew that it was wrong of him to yell at the old wizard like this. Dumbledore was on his side. The old man had _always_ been on Harry's side since the day Harry had first stepped into the Wizarding World.

Hell, Dumbledore had fought harder than anyone else that night to keep Sirius safe and alive from Fudge's stupidity. Were it not for the Headmaster, Harry and Hermione would have probably drawn their wands and been arrested by the Aurors.

But in spite of knowing all this Harry still could not seem to get a reign on his temper.

Fear and anger coursed through Harry's stomach and into his limbs. Fear that Sirius, an innocent man, a man who had told Harry that he wanted them to get to know each other, and maybe even become a family together, would be taken away, and that there was nothing – not a _single_ thing – Harry could do to stop it.

"Ah, but it is precisely because it was Amelia Bones present which makes all the difference in the world." Dumbledore's eyes flashed as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk. The Headmaster formed a steeple with his fingers as a contemplative look fell over his face. "Because sometimes it is not _what_ you know, but _whom_ you know, that can make all the difference."

Dumbledore gave a small, half smile at the two children in front of him. "Neither of you may be directly familiar with Ms. Bones or with her sterling professional reputation, but she and I have worked with one another for nearly two decades. I can personally vouch for her as being of staunch moral character, sound judgment, and impeccable integrity. Or in simpler terms, Amelia Bones is the exact opposite of Minister Fudge when it comes to matters of ethics and responsibility."

"Okay, fine, so she is a bloody saint," Harry said in exasperation as he threw his hands into the air. The Headmaster's words had failed to reassure him. "How exactly does that help us right now?"

"Because Amelia Bones has the final say over any active investigation before it goes to either the Wizengamot _or_ the Ministry for final adjudication. And tonight she has promised me that she will personally see to it that the matter of Sirius' possible innocence will be fully explored before she makes a final decision on where to send this case."

Dumbledore sighed after he finished speaking. For a moment the man truly looked to be his more than one hundred years of age. "Trust me, Harry," the ancient wizard said softly. "Amelia Bones will not stop until this issue has been gone over with a fine tooth comb, and it is my belief that the many irregularities which course throughout this situation shall work heavily in your godfather's favour."

Those words finally struck home with Harry. He fell silent for a moment as he absorbed the Headmaster's words. If the ancient wizard was correct – and he always _had_ been correct in the past, so Harry reminded himself – then maybe things were not quite so bad after all. Maybe Sirius _would_ be okay.

And maybe, just maybe, Harry would not have to go back to the Dursleys ever again.

Harry took a deep breath and turned around to face the Headmaster. He met the man's blue eyes with his own emerald gaze

"Let's say that you're right, Professor," Harry said calmly, "and that this Amelia Bones person will be able to take care of Sirius. If that's correct, then all we can do right now is leave things in her hands, right?"

"No," Dumbledore said firmly. "That is not completely correct. This matter will not be in her hands alone."

The mighty wizard's eyes flashed with the first anger Harry has ever seen in them. And in that moment Harry was reminded that the man before him was the only one Voldemort had ever feared to face. That the Headmaster had fought and prevailed against another Dark Lord decades before Harry had even been born, and who had no known equal in the entirety of magical Britain.

Dumbledore's blue eyes nearly glowed with power as he spoke. "I have spent twelve years trying to find out what happened at his trial. Twelve long years of constant stonewalling and fruitless bureaucratic wrangling. The ministry has hidden the records, and none but the Minister of Magic himself or his direct representatives could unseal them. But now that Sirius is the subject of an active investigation again – _and_ is in official custody – Amelia and I combined will have both the authority and the resources needed to locate and unseal all pertinent records."

The Headmaster's eyes dimmed back to their usual twinkle as he finished speaking. The feeling of radiating magic began to dissipate as the ancient wizard's power retracted into his lanky frame.

Dumbledore looked Harry directly in the eye before speaking. "So I promise you, Harry, that Sirius _will_ go free, and that you _will_ see him again this summer. On both these things you have my word."

That statement finally gave Harry cause for relief. Because as much as Harry trusted whomever Dumbledore trusted, Harry had far more faith in the man himself. Fudge and his lackeys might be able to pull the wool over the eyes of other people, but Harry doubted that they could slip anything past Dumbledore.

"Thank you Professor. I-" Harry paused to take a deep breath. "I know that it won't be simple, but I will rest easier knowing that you are handling the matter yourself."

It was the truth. And for the first time since coming to the Headmaster's office, Harry could feel his body begin to relax as the tension of not knowing what might happen to Sirius began to leave his body.

**Ding!**

Harry flinched at the loud sound of a notification from the Game. He had been receiving a steady stream of them ever since the Tutorial session had ended but had pushed them off to the side in order to deal with more pressing matters. Defeating Dementors, screaming at a stubborn Bureaucrat, and the conversation with Dumbledore had taken up the majority of his focus.

Now that the dust had seemingly settled, the prior notifications that Harry had received were just begging for his attention.

Quite literally so, as the most recent ding had not been accompanied by anything new. Or at least Harry did not think so, as nothing momentous or important had happened when the noise had sounded just now.

Then something occurred to Harry. The Game had been helpful thus far tonight. Without it, Harry and the rest would have been dead, or perhaps stuck in the woods for hours as they waited to be found.

If that were to hold true, then maybe there was something about the Game which could help with Sirius' situation. Harry had not nearly figured out everything that it could do. It was strange and unlike anything he had ever encountered or even heard about. Yet with both Hermione and the Headmaster being two of the smartest people in the world, perhaps something new would be revealed that could solve this entire situation.

Yet did he dare to reveal it to the Headmaster?

That was the question Harry now found himself wrestling over. He had already decided that he would tell Hermione. That decision was set in stone; he trusted her with his life and knew that she would never betray him or try to use him.

But did he dare trust the Headmaster with this revelation?

Harry was no expert on strange things in the magical world, but even he knew that what had happened to him earlier this evening was far beyond what passed for normal among magic users. This Game of Death that had appeared to him and called him Master, that gave him special abilities, and taught him how to cast the Patronus Charm, was something Harry had never even heard _rumours_about.

This made Harry cautious. Because in his experience, the things that witches and wizards did not talk about were often the things with the greatest potential to blow up in his face.

Like the Philosopher's Stone in his first year. Or the Chamber of Secrets in his second year. People had only talked about them _after _Harry was already in too deep to back out. Before then he had not heard even so much as a peep about their existence.

But this was _Professor Dumbledore_. The man who had always helped Harry when he had needed it, who had always believed him no matter what strange or bizarre thing had happened to him in the past. And as one of the smartest, most powerful, and wisest wizard's in the world today, Dumbledore was better positioned to help Harry figure out what was going on with him than anyone else.

Right? That had to be true. And because he knew that it was, Harry's decision on the matter was clear.

He took a deep breath and started to speak. "Before you go, sir, there's something else that we need to talk about. Because in addition to Pettigrew's escape and Lupin's transformation, and the horde of Dementor's that nearly killed us, there was one other big thing that happened tonight that I have not yet told you about. I'm… just not sure how to go about explaining it."

To his side, Harry saw Hermione's eyes widen. The brilliant girl was no doubt thinking back to the discussion which had been interrupted by Fawkes and the Headmaster two hours earlier.

Dumbledore, however, looked to be unperturbed. He merely nodded his head in Harry's direction in a gesture to proceed. "It has been my experience that starting at the beginning is often the best place when confronted by a confusing situation."

"Yeah… yeah, you're probably right, sir. So, here goes." Harry took a second deep breath. "When I was out in the woods tonight, something happened. Something… strange, and something magical too. My entire world changed out there… and though I'm not certain, I don't think that it will ever go back to the way it used to be."

Harry then told them about the Game of Death. How it had asked him if he wanted to play, called him Master at first and then later Gamer, and then about all of the strange things that had happened after Harry had selected the 'yes' option.

After he had finished speaking and looked at both of their disbelieving faces, Harry knew that he needed to do something more; to do something which would make them understand. Luckily, he knew just how he could go about doing it.

He held up a finger to pause any forthcoming questions. "Help." The game's help feature activated with a soft ding. "Is there any feature or function of the game which would help convince someone else that the Game exists and that I am not crazy?"

**Ding!**

**Harry Potter has Activated the Party Join Feature**

**As this is the Feature's First Use the Nearest Friendly Individuals have been Automatically Invited**

**Ding!**

**Harry Potter has Invited Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Hermione Jean Granger to Join the Party**

**All Experience Gains are Halted Due to Massive Level Difference**

**Level Gains will Return to Normal Once the Disparity in Levels Returns to Acceptable Margins**

Yeah. That should do the trick.

Harry had a small grin on his face as he looked at Hermione and the Headmaster. "Do you believe me now?"

**A/N:** Here's the second part of the chapter. It's a little on the short side, and probably not my best piece of work, but hopefully still enjoyable. It will feed directly into the next chapter which should be out sometime in the next week. I've gone through the first two drafts of it, but it will still need at least two more sessions of complete edits before I post anything online.

Dear gosh I cannot wait to get through the 'setup' phase of this story. I've already written a few basic chapter drafts for the post setup phase and the lack of having to constantly input explanations of the Game's mechanics is wonderful. Because by that point the Game just becomes another plot tool at my disposal.

I threw in some of the warning signs for Harry's temper. It's not as bad as it was in, say, OotP, but it is certainly present. I won't be going down the same path that the inestimable Ms. Rowling travelled in books 5 and 6 (Harry got a little too whiny and self-absorbed for my tastes), but it _is_ his biggest character flaw. And all good characters need at least one flaw to make them seem more real.

A few PMs and reviews have touched on Dumbledore, so I'll try to make my stance clear to the majority of silent readers out there. My take on Dumbledore is pretty simple. I view him as somewhere between an aged warrior and a brilliant eccentric. Both sides of the man will come out in my writing, but both will inevitably show a good – if flawed – man. One who tries to see the good in people, but possesses a calculating nature that has a lifetime of terrible experiences has ingrained deep within him. He will be neither a doddering old fool, nor a crazed manipulator, nor some ultra powerful dark wizard in disguise. Just an old, powerful man with iron clad values, hidden passions, and an intellect which is both his biggest boon and greatest bane.

In short, he will be a flawed yet Good Dumbledore in this story.

Last but not least, just in case it was not yet clear, I am not British. I do not speak the Queen's English. And I am not fully up to date on either current or 90's British slang.

I did go to school internationally where I had a number of British friends. I've read some great British series (Redwall, Harry Potter, LOTRs and Silmarillion shout outs), and I do enjoy a number of BBC programs (such as Merlin, Sherlock and The Great British Bakeoff/Baking Show)… but even so I have definitely not absorbed enough to write the entire story from a British perspective. So while I will be peppering in British phrases here and there (maybe even including a short scene where McGonagall lets loose in Scottish brogue) I will generally be keeping to the American dialect as a rule of thumb.

It's the superior dialect anyway. Right? :p

Updated 12/09/2019

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	5. Chapter 5: The Game of Death is Real

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Five: The Game of Death is Real**

Harry's question hung in the quiet air of Dumbledore's office.

In front of him sat a dumbstruck Dumbledore and Hermione. No doubt staring at the floating text which undoubtedly hovered in front of their eyes. Both of them wore expressions stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief.

Good. That was the reaction Harry had been going for; now there would be no way that they would fail to believe him.

Though looking at their stunned expressions made Harry wonder if he had worn a similar expression when the Game had first appeared to him. If so, then seeing such a similar look displayed on the two faces before him was rather comforting. Because if even the two most intelligent, brilliant people Harry knew could be shocked by the Game of Death, it made him feel a little better about his own dazed reaction to it.

The period of stunned silence, though, did not last for long.

In short order Dumbledore had his wand out, eyes focused sharply on the air in front of him. The tip of his long wand shone brightly as he held it up to where the Game's message was no doubt floating in the air. The light at the wand's tip began cycling through all the colors of the rainbow, providing the only clue that the powerful wizard was casting spell after silent spell to determine what it was that lay before his eyes.

Meanwhile, as though stirred by their Headmaster's reaction, Hermione went for the simple option and reached out a small hand to touch the invisible message.

The Game's reaction was immediate.

**Ding!**

**The Help Feature has been Automatically Activated by the Joining of a Party Member**

**Hermione Jean Granger (Hereafter Referred to as Hermione) has Joined your Party**

**Hermione will be Able to See her Stats and Skills in the Gaming Format so Long as She Remains Within the Party**

**Hermione May Also See the Stats of Other Party Members if Given Permission by the Gamer**

**Hermione Cannot Use Any of the Game's Other Features or Functions**

**Experience Will Not be Shared Due to the Presence of a High Level Member**

**Ding!**

**The Gamer Automatically has Access to all Party Member Stats and Can Choose to Share His Own Stats or Party Member Stats With Other Party Members**

**To Give a Party Member Access to Another Party Member's Stats and Skills You Must State "Share _Insert X Party Member's Name_ Stats With _Insert Y Party Member's Name_"**

**Stats Will Remain Shared Until Either the Party Disbands or the Gamer Takes Action to Restrict Access**

**Ask the Help Feature for a More Thorough Explanation Should One be Needed**

When Hermione jumped into the air at the loud noise from the ding, Harry could not help himself. He threw his head back and laughed! He laughed long and hard until he reached and passed the point where tears started to come out of his eyes.

Seeing the normally unflappable Hermione react like that was just too funny!

The entertainment came with a price. Hermione's left hand hit him with embarrassed light slap after embarrassed slap while she berated him verbally, but Harry did not mind. The price was totally worth it, because someone else got to share in his suffering from the accursed dinging! Which may have been a petty thought on his part, but it did bring some much needed cheer to the previously somber atmosphere if his laughter and Hermione's embarrassed yet amused smile was anything to go by.

That, and her reaction also proved to Harry that he was neither crazy nor under the effects of some Dark Wizard's spell. The Game of Death wasreal and not just a figment of his own imagination. His mind had not cracked under the pressure of a horde of Dementors attacking him at once; nor had one of Voldemort's servants placed him under some kind of magical hallucination.

Either of which would have been a depressing – yet normal – situation for the young wizard. He had encountered worse throughout his short tenure in the magical world.

Meanwhile, seemingly unable to determine whatever was going on through the use of his wand, Dumbledore had begun to move around the room and point his wand at the various strange instruments surrounding them. Harry had no idea what that might accomplish, so he decided to take advantage of this moment and speak to his best friend.

He calmed his laughter, caught her still slapping hand, and gently poked her shoulder as he spoke with barely concealed mirth. "Share Harry's stats with Hermione, and share Hermione's stats with Harry."

The moment he said those words another ding rang out. It was followed by Harry now being able to view the words which hung before Hermione's face.

He could not help but let out a low whistle when he saw his best friend's display. Because from what Harry could tell from a quick glance it seemed that even the Game of Death itself thought highly of the bushy maned girl.

**Hermione Granger**

_**A bright, highly intelligent young woman who has never lost the excitement of learning that magic was real. She is a passionate and highly opinionated person who tries to help those around her even if they neither ask nor appreciate her assistance. She is determined to be one of the greatest witches of all time and is well on the way to achieving her goal. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 15 (Time Turner)**

**Brightest Witch of the Age**

**Golden Girl**

**Level 30**

**Stats:**

**STR: 18**

**DEX: 33**

**CON: 25**

**INT: 196**

**WIS: 162**

**CHA: 42**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Bookworm**

**Muggleborn**

**Taskmistress**

**Perfectionist**

**Calculating**

**Kind Heart**

**True Friend**

**Dedicated**

Harry may not have have looked at his own stats yet, but he could already tell that Hermione's stats were good. _Really_ good. Seeing is believing, and seeing her information displayed in the air like that made Harry once again thank his lucky stars that he had found such an incredible person to be his friend.

The oddest thing about it all, though, was that the Game said that her age was 15. Which was strange, because Hermione's fifteenth birthday was not until Fourth Year. She was born in October, and this past year they had celebrated her fourteenth birthday.

Maybe the Game had made a mistake. Or maybe that Time Turner thing next to her name had something to do with it. Because Harry seriously doubted that Hermione had lied about being an entire year younger.

Harry was jolted out of his ruminations by a tug on his sleeve. He looked away from the stats hanging in the air to look at the inquisitive face of his best friend.

"So, um, what does all of this mean?" Hermione asked. "I can see my name and my age, but what is the point of everything else?"

Since Hermione did not seem to be surprised by the age issue, Harry chose to follow her lead. He might not be the best versed when it came to girls and women, but he had seen enough over the years to never question a woman about her age. Ron's spectacular failure in their first year, when the boy had questioned Professor McGonagall about her age and why she still looked so pretty if she were so old, had never been forgotten.

Harry launched into a brief explanation of what he had learned from the Game's Help feature about stats and traits. It was not much, but it could at least provide her with a place to start. He even mentioned to her that the Dementor he had used Observe on supposedly had a level of 999, a charisma stat of over five thousand, and traits like Aura of Fear and Soulsucker.

Hermione cocked her head to one side as she absorbed the information. After a while, the girl bit her lip like she did whenever she was deep in thought. "Hm. So there was such a large disparity in levels between us. Maybe levels and attributes are not very important."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure that the only reason I beat the Dementors was because the Patronus Charm is basically their Achilles Heel. What I read from their traits is that the only other way to beat them is to have a higher Charisma attribute than they do… and I really doubt that my score is above 5000."

The brilliant girl nodded her head. "Then if the Dementor was level 999, and I'm at level 30, I wonder what levels you and Professor Dumbledore are at. I'd think that you and I possess a similar level, but the Professor should be much higher than the two of us." She turned to look him in the eyes. "So? What do your stats look like?"

Harry blinked at her and felt his cheeks grow red with embarrassment. "I'm not sure," he said somewhat sheepishly. "I, uh, I was too busy trying to figure out how to get through the tutorial thing as fast as possible and forgot to check."

A small snort escaped Hermione's lips. "Of course you did. Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that my plan worked and got us all out of there alive," Harry retorted. "Besides, I was kind of freaking out about this Game of Death thing too. It was really freaky to have time come to a complete stop while glowing green words hung in front of my face."

"Oh. Yes. I, uh, can see how having this… Game… pop up in the middle of things would be rather surprising." Hermione gave him a gentle pat on his thigh. Then she continued to lecture him. "But just think of what else you may have missed! For all we know, the tutorial you were trapped in might have been some kind of teaching tool."

"It was!"

"Then why didn't you take better advantage of it?"

Harry gave a groan and slumped back into his chair. Of course Hermione would focus on a missed opportunity to gather more information. But Harry was not her and had preferred to just blow through the tutorial as quickly as possible. Saving her life was more important than learning about this Game of Death thing. And if Harry had to do it all over, he would make the same choices all over again.

The two of them glared at each other for a moment before they each backed down. After three years of arguments they both knew when the other was entrenched. When that happened, and neither of them was willing to back down, it was better to move on and talk about something else.

Harry brought up his stats and, with a muttered 'observe' at the still busy Dumbledore, brought up the Headmaster's stats as well. Going over them would hopefully distract Hermione from his failure to take full advantage of the tutorial, while also giving them a better idea of what might actually be going on with everything.

**Harry Potter**

_**A young boy with the seeds of greatness within him, Harry has overcome the many challenges life has flung his way. He is determined, noble, and one of the best people anyone could have the pleasure of knowing. He can sometimes be prone to bouts of anger and frustration, but is always ready to laugh or cry with those he cares about. Harry does not know what he wants in life, but knows that it can only come after he is freed from the shadow of Voldemort. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 13**

**The-Boy-Who-Lived**

**Heir Apparent to the Potter Family**

**Basilisk Slayer  
Heroic Child**

**Golden Boy**

**Level 30**

**Stats:**

**STR: 53**

**DEX: 63**

**CON: 50**

**INT: 112**

**WIS: 93**

**CHA: 347**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Duellist**

**Survivor**

**Humble**

**Elf-Friend**

**Boy-Who-Lived**

**Half-Blood**

**School Quidditch Star**

**Possessor of a Deathly Hallow**

**Clutch Performer**

**Foe of the Dark**

**Battle Hardened**

**Dark Arts Magnet**

**A Mother's Protection**

**Weak Familiar Bond (Hedwig)**

**Peverell Bloodline**

**Walking Target**

**Oblivious One**

**Parseltongue**

**Headstrong**

**True Friend**

**Negotiator**

**Dedicated**

**Horcrux**

**Gamer**

"Ooh! See Harry?" Hermione said excitedly. "This is excellent. According to your Game, the two of us really are at the same level, level 30, and some of my stats are higher than yours. But overall, most of your stats are higher than my own. I wonder what that means, and if it has any correlation to actual abilities." She then pointed lower on the page. "And look at all of those traits that you have! That's incredible!"

Glancing at the ridiculous number of traits that he possessed almost caused Harry to go cross-eyed. Hermione's page had nine traits. The Dementor had possessed six traits. But Harry? Harry had _twenty-five_ traits! That was nearly double the number of traits that Hermione and the Dementor had combined between them.

What on Earth was the cause? Harry was not arrogant enough to believe that he really was just that amazing.

Sure, he was relatively good at magic. He got decent grades, and both Flitwick and McGonagall always told him that he had the talent to be better. And harry definitely had more sheer magical power available to him than any of his peers; he could keep casting spells long after everyone else in his age group had collapsed from exhaustion. But looking at the traits he had, like the Basilisk Slayer one, gave Harry the feeling that most of his peers did not have nearly so many to their names.

Not unless there was a secret course for slaying Basilisks. Something which was rather unlikely to exist.

While Hermione busily combed over Harry's stats and traits and compared them to her own, Harry put his own stats to the side and focused on Dumbledore's stats. He grimaced when he saw the Game's notification.

**Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore**

**?**

**Target's Level is Too High**

The fact that the Headmaster was more than a hundred levels higher than Harry was not a surprise in the slightest. Dumbledore was over a hundred years old, had defeated one Dark Lord, and was generally acknowledged as the greatest wizard of their time. Knowing that such a man was really high level was blatantly obvious.

It was the part about anyone over 100 levels higher being out of his reach that had Harry grimacing. The Game had told him about this issue earlier that evening, but the information had not sunk in at the time.

It had gone in one ear and out the other if Harry were to be perfectly honest with himself.

A faint hope that had bloomed within him when Harry had seen Hermione's stats and was calling up his own was that perhaps he could use the Game's ability to scout out some of his known enemies. People like Snape or Lucius Malfoy. Or others like them who had it out for him but had not yet revealed themselves, like an assassin or the like; or maybe the Game could have given Harry information on even Voldemort himself! If the disembodied Dark Lord were to possess someone else like he did with Quirrell, then being able to see it coming would probably help Harry to throw a wrench in any of Voldemort's plans.

But unless Snape and the others were only at level 130 – something which Harry _seriously_ doubted – then there went that bright idea.

Oh sure, he could – and would – use this ability on Draco Malfoy the first chance he got, but Draco was not nearly as threatening as the other enemies present within Harry's life. Draco Malfoy, Harry's self-proclaimed rival and constant antagonist, was more like a Flobberworm with teeth rather than the powerful serpent he imagined himself as embodying.

"Bullocks," Harry eventually muttered to Hermione. "And here I had been hoping to use this to check out Snape and see if he really _is_ evil."

At Hermione's questioning look, Harry explained his thought process. It soon had the brilliant girl 'tsking' from annoyance as well at the lost opportunity.

During their talk, however, something else came up. While the Game might show stats to anyone Harry gave permission, the rest of the people in his 'party' did not seem to get any other notifications. Which was another minor annoyance, because having two or more people capable of using the Observe or Help features would have been amazing.

"Don't worry about that for now Harry. There are better things on which we can focus." Hermione's tone of voice was distracted as the girl was clearly absorbed in studying the stats pages for Harry and herself. "While it would have been nice being able to gain information on people who want to hurt you so easily, something like this can be just as good."

Harry blinked owlishly. "How so?"

"Because being able to know about your own strengths and weaknesses is far more important than knowing the same kind of information about your enemies. With access to detailed information like this, you, me, and even Ron can improve our ability to learn and cast spells much quicker than we could normally."

Hermione's eyes seemed to glow as she leaned on his shoulder to point her finger at various parts of the pages. "And besides, look at some of these traits like 'True Friend' and 'Loyal.' Have you read their descriptions yet? Learning about what different traits mean could help us out immensely when you eventually do reach a high enough level. Because if I'm reading the pattern correctly, different people will have different traits, and the type of traits they have will be highly indicative of their strengths and weaknesses."

Huh. She made a good point. Curious, Harry pulled up the information to see what she meant. He decided to start with the two traits she had already mentioned.

_**Loyal:**_

_**Any person or creature which bears this trait is loyal by their very nature. They may not always commit to something, but when they do make a commitment it is very hard to sway or change their minds. This can be a double edged sword; committing to a good course of action will be rewarding to the individual, but should they commitment to a bad course of action they are likely to suffer for it. Gives an automatic +5000 reputation points to other people who share this trait, and -10000 reputation points with people who bear Deception related traits. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.**_

_**True**** Friend:** _

_**Anyone bearing this trait is more than just loyal to their friends. This person will go through thick and thin for anyone they regard as a friend. No matter the odds or rewards, anyone with this title will be impossibly loyal. Gives an automatic +5000 reputation points with anyone else who bears this trait, +50000 reputation points for anyone who they count as a friend, and -50000 reputation points for anyone who does not value friendships, such as someone with the Cold Heart trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.**_

Huh. Well, Hermione was certainly right yet again. Just like she had said those two traits were pretty good. And if anyone deserved to have them, then that person was Hermione Granger. As Harry could attest to, Hermione was absolutely one of the most loyal and true friends anyone could ever have.

He was not quite certain whether he was worthy of having those traits applied to himself as well, but hoped that it was true anyway.

For a time Harry and Hermione just looked over their stats and compared them to one another. Her intelligence stat was clearly higher than his own, which was of no surprise to either of them. Hermione was the smartest person in their year hands down and both of them knew it.

As for Harry's charisma attribute being more than 300 points higher than Hermione's? That blew him out of the water. Of the two of them, Harry would have easily said that Hermione was the more charismatic. The ferociously intelligent girl was willing to do things like fight for what she felt was right, even if her friends disagreed with her, and was always front and center when it came to taking action or fielding questions in class.

Meanwhile Harry just liked to fly on his broom have fun with his friends. But when he mentioned that train of thought to Hermione he received one of the most deadpan looks he had ever seen upon her face.

"Harry," Hermione said slowly, as though speaking to a child. "Have you seen the effect you have on those around you? On the faces of the people in our classrooms, or at any of your Quidditch games? For goodness sake, how about the way people look and gravitate towards you in the Great Hall at nearly every single mealtime we have ever had?"

Harry felt his face heat up. What did any of that even mean? "Hermione, stop kidding around," he said softly. "You know that that's not true. Stuff like that only happened last year when everyone thought that I was the Heir of Slytherin. And, well, at Quidditch Games, people pay attention to all of the players. It's not just about me."

"But that's not true Harry. I mean, just the girls alone –"

A snort escaped Harry's lips. "And now I know that you're just pulling my leg on this Hermione. No girl would ever look at me like that and we both know it."

A pang of pain ran through his chest at the thought. Harry had not really considered romance all that much, but the thought that girls would swoon over him in droves was utterly ridiculous. He had mooned over Cho Chang for half this year and had never seen the beautiful girl toss him so much as a single look. If Hermione's words had been correct, then surely Harry would have seen something by now.

"No. You're wrong, Harry. Absolutely wrong. And you can ask that of almost any girl at Hogwarts." Hermione turned her attention back to his stats page. "But I think that I know at least one reason why you might be so dreadfully idiotic about this subject. I haven't tapped on it yet, but let's take a look at this particular trait of yours."

Hermione reached out and tapped a line of text on his page. Harry frowned as she did, but decided to humor her. When he read what popped up on his screen, Harry felt the flush on his face from earlier begin to deepen.

_**Oblivious One:**_

_**A witch or wizard who bears this title is both lucky and cursed beyond measure. They are surrounded by attractive members of the gender in which they are sexually interested that also happen to have an interest in them. However, they nearly always fail to pick up on the subtle clues, furtive glances, or outright flirtation that most humans understand to mean that someone is expressing a romantic interest. Makes the bearer of this trait unlikely to notice the romantic interest of those around them unless they are hit over the head and told in no uncertain terms about it.**_

None of that could be true. It was an utter load of rubbish. Rubbish! Harry knew that he was not the most perceptive of individuals, but he could _not_ be _that_ bad.

He hazarded a quick look at Hermione's face. What he saw there made his flush deepen to what felt like Weasley levels of red.

Harry knew that look. He had seen it first year when she had said 'I told you so' after it had been revealed that Snape was never trying to kill him. Or whenever they argued over something they had learned in class and Hermione was inevitably proven to be right.

It was her 'I'm right, you know that I'm right, so hurry up and say it before I do' look.

Harry really did not like that look.

While it was not thrown his way very often – Ron was usually the one to get it – it sucked every time he had to face it. Because Harry was, at his core, deeply competitive. And being forced to admit that he was wrong was always annoying.

But ignoring it and trying to pretend that she was not right would only make things worse, so Harry screwed up his Gryffindor courage and began to give into the inevitable. "Well, um, if what that trait said is right –"

"It _is_ right, Harry," Hermione interrupted sharply. "But do go on."

"Uh, um, well, you know, uh, _if_ it's right, then _maybe_ you might have a point. Maybe." Harry could not fully accept that she was right in this case. Because seriously, if girls really were interested in him like she was alluding then surely he would have noticed!

"Harry, do you really want me to break this down for you?" Hermione's tone was so sugary sweet that it could have given a candy addict a toothache. "I could, you know. I could go into such depth and detail on this subject that the cute little blush on your face right now would never go away. And I'd wager that I could nail down what every single girl in this girl school, regardless of age or House, thought of you just as accurately as this 'game' thing of yours, too."

Harry shook his head vehemently. Nope, that was not a good idea. It was a bad one. One that was never going to happen. Not so long as he had anything to say about it.

Stats or no stats, he was only thirteen for goodness sake! He was not going to have this discussion with Hermione of all people. Possibly Ron – or hopefully Sirius whenever Harry saw him again – but not with Hermione. Absolutely not with Hermione! She was a girl, she was his friend, and Harry had the feeling that if they talked about this subject then something major would change between them. Something which could never be undone.

There were some lines that Harry refused to cross and that was absolutely one of them.

The words to reject her offer virtually poured out of him like water through a cracked pitcher. "Nope, not necessary. Not at all Hermione. I, uh, I get the picture already. There's no need to go into any detail or anything. So thank you. None at all."

"Then you admit that I'm right?"

With his back pressed against a metaphorical wall there was no way for Harry to wriggle out of talking about girls and romance unless he gave in to her. So he did what every instinct in his body was screaming at him to do and caved faster than he ever had in his entire life.

"Yes. You are absolutely right." Harry said with a pleading expression on his face.

"And you also admit that you were wrong to disagree with me about it in the first place?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. "I was _completely_ in the wrong, Hermione. _Completely_ and _utterly_ within the wrong."

"Good boy," Hermione said with a satisfied expression on her face. She reached over and gave him a satisfied pat on his head. "I knew that your wisdom attribute was high for a reason."

Harry once again blinked owlishly at his best friend as the girl in question kept patting him on the head. How had she reached that conclusion? And why was she patting him on the head?

Alas, such thoughts would have to wait until later as Dumbledore chose that moment to let out a sudden cry of exclamation. Harry and Hermione both whipped their heads around to stare at the Headmaster as the elderly man did a strange little dance of joy. The old wizard's slipper clad feet bounced his skinny form up and down while genuine excitement could be seen in his sparkling eyes.

"Aha! Now that is quite interesting, quite interesting indeed" the Headmaster said as he gazed at a strange tank filled with water. "Harry my boy, if you would be so kind as to come stand next to me for a moment I may have an idea as to what is currently transpiring in regards to this new ability of yours."

Harry perked up at his words. It had been less than an hour and yet Dumbledore already had an idea as to whom or what had the Game of Death to appear before Harry? The man truly was brilliant.

After giving Hermione a quick glance, Harry followed Dumbledore's words. Harry stood up from his chair and moved towards the older wizard, who currently seemed to be poking his glowing wand at the empty fish tank.

Yet as Harry drew closer to the tank something began to change.

He could begin to make out shadowy figures swimming within its waters. Strange noises began to fill his ears, sounding like whispers coming from far away.

Harry took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and ears, and tried to move closer once again. It made no difference. The closer he drew, the more the half-heard whispers and shadowy figures seemed to penetrate his mind.

A headache began to grow within his brain when he was only a short distance away. It grew with every step he took towards Dumbledore's side, until it reached a point where Harry did not know if he could take it any longer.

He stopped and turned around. The instant he did so Harry the whispers disappeared and he felt the headache began to fade.

"Hm… fascinating. I was not expecting anything to happen until you got to my side," Dumbledore muttered softly. Then his voice grew louder as he clearly addressed Harry. "Now please tell me, Harry, did you experience anything when you tried to come over here? Did you feel anything? See anything? Or perhaps even taste something?"

Harry gave a gentle nod of his head as he waited for the headache to further subside. "I did, Professor. At first I thought that the tank in front of you was empty, but as I got closer I started to see shapes within it."

"Did these shapes have any color?" Dumbledore's voice was sharp and curt as he questioned Harry. "Were they distinct?"

"I'm not too sure about color, sir, but they were shadowy."

"Good, good. And was that all?"

"No sir. I also heard whispered voices too that got louder as I approached, and I got a headache that seemed to get worse the closer I got to the tank." Harry continued to massage his head as he spoke. "It's only started to leave now that I've turned my back on it."

The old wizard seemed to pause at Harry's words. "Curiouser and curiouser. Hm. I was not expecting that to happen. Not at all. But perhaps that only serves to solidify my theory."

"And what would that be, Professor?" Hermione asked from her place by the Headmaster's desk. Her voice was just as sharp and interrogative as that of the Headmaster.

"Quite a simple theory, Ms. Granger, albeit one with far reaching consequences. Yet before I go into any depth regarding it, I would like to decline this party invitation you have sent me, Harry. How might I go about doing so?"

Harry gave a shrug of his shoulders without turning around. "I'm not one hundred percent certain, sir, but I believe that either physically touching the 'no' option on the screen before you, or just thinking it really hard, will do it."

"Hm. Yes, that would indeed be the logical course of action. But before I try that, let me try something else first." A short pause. "I apologize beforehand if this causes any discomfort."

A dozen different things then seemed to happen all at once.

There was a flash of light behind Harry's eyes, while a feeling akin to an icy cold hand touching every bit of exposed flesh on his body burst across his skin. A tinkling noise, as though someone had shattered a large glass window, filled the room; while at the same time the distant roar of some unknown entity swept across Harry and the others, filling the cool stone room with a heat great enough to soak their robes in sudden sweat. The strange noises and sensations kept coming, piling upon one another in a never ending stream.

Then the loudest ding Harry had yet to hear broke over his ears like a wailing banshee.

_**DING!**_

_**AN OUTSIDE INTERFERENCE HAS BEEN DETECTED!**_

_**ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE HAS HAD THEIR INVITATION TO THE GAMER'S PARTY REVOKED**_

_**NO PARTY INVITATIONS CAN BE SENT TO THIS INDIVIDUAL FOR THE NEXT SIX MONTHS AS THEY HAVE BEEN BANNED BY THE SYSTEM**_

_**ANY REPEAT VIOLATION ON A SIMILAR LEVEL WILL CAUSE THIS INDIVIDUAL TO BE PERMANENTLY BANNED FROM THE GAMER'S PARTY**_

Harry gave a pained groan and clutched his arms over himself. A feeling of cold fury washed through him as though some powerful being had been angered by the Headmaster's action. The feeling of icy rage boiled within him, racing until it felt like Harry's body would explode.

Then, as suddenly as it had come upon him, the feeling disappeared.

After taking a few deep breaths, Harry closed down the Game's latest notification and stumbled over to his chair next to the Headmaster's desk. He cracked an eye open to give Dumbledore a one-eyed glare as the old wizard moved in his direction.

"Just in case you were wondering, Professor," Harry said with tired annoyance, "whatever you did just now caused a massive reaction from this thing. I could see a light behind my eyes, my skin felt tingly, and a dozen other things went off in my body. Then an insanely loud message popped up saying that you have been temporarily banned from my Party for whatever it is you just did."

A grim Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk as he listened to Harry. The man's bright eyes were unusually somber and speculative. "Ah, yes, I should have figured that such would happen. I had hypothesized that a being had formed a connection with you, but I did not anticipate the connection would be quite so strong between you. I underestimated how far Death was willing to go when creating this link."

The old wizard took off his spectacles for a brief moment, gently rubbing his eyes with a hand gnarled by age. "Alas, young Harry, I think that whatever happened to you in the forest this evening will prove to be both boon and bane. I had wished to spare you any further pain this year, but it seems that the powers which govern this world have other plans in mind."

Dumbledore replaced his glasses upon his eyes and fixed a piercing gaze upon Harry and Hermione. "Now, before I tell you what I think has occurred, I need you both to tell me what you see when you interact with this 'game', as well as what each of you thinks about it. Let us start with you, Ms. Granger."

Hermione nodded and immediately launched into a precise analysis of what she could see. Harry nodded his head while she spoke, only adding in a few points of clarification when it came to some of the features to which Hermione did not have complete access. The two of them also worked to draw a quick outline of Hermione's stats page on a piece of paper that Dumbledore provided so that the Headmaster could have a visual representation to work off of as well.

When it was his turn to speak Harry said much of the same things as he had told Hermione only a short time earlier. He explained about the various features that the Game had told him of, like the Help feature, and how he had wanted to do things like use the Observe feature to spy upon Lucius Malfoy and Snape, only to be told that his level was too low.

When it came time to discuss his traits, Harry tried to skirt discussing his oblivious trait… only for Hermione to interject and cover it in his stead. In exhaustive detail as well. So exhaustive that Harry's cheeks were once again burning, and a subdued twinkle had returned to Dumbledore's tired eyes.

It took a while to cover everything, but at last Harry found that he had exhausted himself of any words. He sat back in his chair and allowed himself to slowly relax into its firm, cushioned wood.

Eventually, after pursing his lips and staring off into nothing for several minutes, Dumbledore gave a gentle nod of his head. "Yes, this will prove to be rather interesting. Rather interesting indeed. Considering the range and depth of this 'game' it is undoubtedly clear as to why the connection between the two of you is so strong."

Dumbledore's eyes regained their hard, piercing look as he once again met Harry's gaze. "This ability of yours has the potential to change a great many things, my dear boy; a great many. But you must always keep my next words in mind."

Harry nodded. He had felt that to be true as well.

The old wizard took a deep breath and said his next words in exacting slowness. "However, while I believe that this will be a powerful tool, one capable of assisting you as you grow and mature as both a man and as a wizard, I believe that it will _only_ be that. A tool. And that like any other tool, this 'game' will have its limitations and drawbacks. It is my hope that you and Ms. Granger here will work hard to discover what those might be so that you can learn to navigate whatever obstacles may rise in front of you as a result of them. I also hope that you will both record and keep track of your observations so that we can go over them together in the future, as I will be unable to directly experience this 'game' until your next year is well underway."

The great wizard the placed his hands into his lap and sat back in his chair. "Now, what I am about to tell you next might be a surprise, so I shall follow my own advice and start at the beginning."

He looked between both Harry and Hermione as he asked his next question. "Have either of you heard or read _The Tale of the Three Brothers _by Beetle the Bard?"

**A/N:** To those of you whom are are opposed to reading a long discussion on world building I would recommend skipping ahead to the next chapter.

I think that this will officially be my longest author note ever. But it's for good reason. I swear! Hopefully some of you who are interested in writing your own stories will take something out of it. As for everyone else, maybe you will find it interesting to see the underlying madness which is making this story move along.

In this chapter I focused more on setting the groundwork for the future. This fic will be lacking in action for awhile (aside from Harry and company destroying a certain Horcrux in the near future), as I am currently trying to set things in motion for my AU stuff. The next period of action will occur during the summer in the World Quidditch tourney and in one humorous bit that I've written featuring Remus, Sirius, and everyone's favorite metamorphagus :)

You'll see all sorts of short character scenes as well in the next few chapters as I try to show you how a few things (and people) in my story are different from HP canon, so that when Year 4 arrives it will not be the same old retread common throughout HP fan fiction. I've read some truly crazy interpretations of Year 4 out there and intend to do my own take on it as well. I will be putting a few OCs in to help facilitate it, but they will be strictly background types; few things annoy me more in fan fiction than OCs that take over a story's plot. There will be no Mysterious Handsome Stranger named Hadrian Black-Potter-Peverell Goblinson Shadow Assassin of Legendary Might and Glory in this story, thank you very much.

And while I do like Dumbledore, and he will be a good guy in this story… for those of you who dislike him, the old man will be just as secretive and manipulative as ever. Something which will eventually cause Harry (and others) to come into conflict with him further down the road. So rejoice!

Meanwhile, for those interested in what goes into writing this story there, is a lot more going on with Harry and Hermione's status pages than I displayed for you to read. This will hold true for _every_ character; I do not want to turn this story into an overwhelming narration of stats and abilities, but all of that material _does_ actually exist. In my behind the scenes notes (which currently stand at over 100 pages) I did a number of things which went into making the status' you saw in this chapter. Read on below for a behind the scenes look at my methodology, or just take a pass and read the next chapter (assuming that it is out). It is not necessary to understand this story.

_**Elsil's World Building Corner**_

When I started to create the idea for this story I knew that there was a massive issue which stood in front of me: Power Creep. How could I write this story in the way I wanted, in this universe, while remaining somewhat true to the HP canon? Especially since I envisioned an expanded world, where we see more than just Magical Britain, and where knowledge comes in from these different areas.

To resolve the issue I tried to visualize how I could empower empower characters in this story in a holistic manner, but I quickly ran into two more issues. 1) What is the highest level of power that can possibly be reached by a character in this world, and 2) what should a 'normal' level power be for the average mortal? Until I answered these two questions, I could not figure out where to place Harry et al on the power scale. Because if I made them too powerful, then the story would quickly become boring. But if I made them too weak, then I would probably have to rely on some deus ex machina 'power of friendship' bullshit to get the characters through their adventures. Neither of which appeals to me.

So to answer these two issues I went to my D&D roots and started playing around.

First I created a 'base' status level for the characters by giving them access to an attribute pool of 5 attribute points per level. Main characters like Harry and Hermione received higher levels than a 'generic third year' character template that I also created, while other types of special characters like Ron and Draco received a different amount than the generic levels as well. This same rule was applied to various age groups, professions (teacher, curse breaker, auror, death eater, etc…), and races (House Elves, Dementors, Veela, etc…).

With this done I then assigned attribute points to one of the five categories based on the following criteria: 1) Character personality; characters like McGonagall and Dumbledore, who are more intellectual than physically active, have high intelligence and wisdom but relatively low strength and constitution, 2) Character interests and hobbies; so characters like Harry and the Weasley twins, who play Quidditch, have higher physical attributes, and 3) What directions will I need them to eventually grow towards; someone like Hermione got even more points placed into her intelligence stack, while Harry had more placed into his charisma stack. Because heroes like Harry, who are neither the smartest nor the strongest, generally need to be charismatic in order to bring people over to their side to compensate for their weaknesses.

All of this allowed me to arrive at the base stats which I have displayed below.

**Hermione Granger**

**Level 30**

**Stats:**

**STR: 12**

**DEX: 22**

**CON: 14**

**INT: 58**

**WIS: 32**

**CHA: 12**

**Harry Potter**

**Level 30**

**Stats:**

**STR: 19**

**DEX: 24**

**CON: 16**

**INT: 42**

**WIS: 23**

**CHA: ****25**

Additionally, as this is a purely 'magic' based fantasy world, as opposed to a 'sword and staff' fantasy world, I also established soft caps for all physical traits (this is eventually be explained in story once Harry learns more about the Game). This means that even if I gave Harry 500 attribute points in strength, he will _not_ be able to go all Hulk on Voldemort and smash him around a la Loki in the first Avengers movie. Hagrid and Maxine might be the exceptions to this rule, but that is because they have the blood of Giants flowing through their veins. Neither Harry nor any other purely _human_ character will suddenly turn into a Wuxia or Comic book MC whose physical abilities allow them to transcend human limits and punch their way through spells.

Second, I created traits and titles. And by created I mean that I wrote out more than a hundred different character traits and titles in a 25 page long list relying almost entirely on my own imagination. Each of these traits has its own description and does something unique.

Some, like the True Friend and Loyalty traits, are shared among many characters. Others, like the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and 'Brightest Witch of The Age' titles, are possessed by only one character and will not be given to any others.

Some traits only give bonuses to reputation. Other traits give bonuses to one or more attribute. While still more are merely descriptive and serve solely as mental triggers for myself when I am writing this story. Regardless, each one helps to modify a character in some way that is useful from my writing perspective.

After attaching the various traits to a character I then tally up the additional bonuses and arrive at a new total. See below for an example.

**Harry Potter**

**Level 30**

**Stats:**

**STR: 19 (+44) (-10) = 53**

**DEX: 24 (+49) (-10) = 63**

**CON: 16 (+44) (-10) = 50**

**INT: 42 (+85) (-15) = 112**

**WIS: 23 (+85) (15) = 93**

**CHA: 25 (+332) (-10) = 347**

As you can see, Harry has received a _massive_ boost in many attributes from his various traits and titles. The first set of (_) marks the addition column, while the second set marks a subtraction column. Meaning that at least one of Harry's traits gives him additional points, while another trait – although a few special traits do possess both positive and negative attribute scores – gives subtractions to the same attributes. The final column marks the finished stats that represents a character's current various abilities. This column will change throughout the story, as Harry and others grow more powerful and gain new abilities.

Third and finally, I wrote character profiles for _every single_ _frickin_ named character that I currently plan to use, and Dear Lord did that take me awhile. Some of the profiles are short (three sentences for Petunia and Vernon combined), while others are over a page in length. I also took the first paragraph from each one and placed it onto the status page within the chapter to show how the characters are perceived by the Game of Death, to function as yet another layer of plot development.

All of you who keep up with this story will eventually see most of the character descriptions I have written, but it will happen in a spread out manner. I really don't want to blast you with stats and descriptions every single chapter, and outside of the rare setup chapter like these first ones and the inevitable 'Durmstrang and Beauxbatons Arrival' chapter, I will try to keep Gaming notifications to a minimum. Because I'm trying to tell a story here instead of giving a metric ton of exposition with a tiny bit of engaging plot on the side.

Updated on 12/12/2019

That's all I've got to say for now.

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	6. Chapter 6: Death and the Peverells

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Six: Death and The Peverells**

Harry shook his head at Dumbledore's question. He saw Hermione do so as well from the corner of her eye. Which honestly surprised Harry, as he could not remember the last time Hermione had been unable to answer a Professor's question. On _anything_. Let alone when the question involved Hermione having read something.

The Headmaster took their ignorance in stride. "The story I speak of is an old children's tale, one which is often told to wizarding children in a manner similar to that of the muggle's _Mother Goose_ rhymes."

Dumbledore gave a chuckle when he noticed both muggle raised students raise their eyebrows at him. "Yes, I do indeed know what they are. Although I must say that the story concerning that poor Humpty Dumpty person brought a tear to my eye when first I read it."

Harry could not help but give a slight chuckle at those words. The mental image of Professor Dumbledore reading a copy of Mother Goose and crying over Humpty Dumpty was just too amusing.

The old wizard gave a slight cough as his blue eyes sparkled in the light. "In any case, I mention that only to give the two of you a point of reference. Because while many in mainstream magical society would hold the two to be equivalent examples of their respective cultures – were more witches and wizards able to rise above their own prevailing biases regarding muggle fiction in general – there is a rather large minority which would disagree. For unlike the stories told in _Mother Goose_, many great witches and wizards throughout the ages have believed Beetle's tale to hold more than a grain of truth."

Dumbledore's previously cheerful gaze turned somber as he continued. "And I, in my own lesser opinion, do believe said individuals to be correct."

Hermione raised her hand as Dumbledore finished speaking. Once the Headmaster had nodded towards her she began to speak.

"But if it's just a children's tale, sir," the bushy-haired witch asked seriously, "then what makes it so special? Just why have so many great witches and wizards, including yourself, believed it to be more than just a bedtime story?"

The subdued twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes grew brighter at her words. "An excellent pair of questions, Ms. Granger. Please take five points for Gryffindor and allow me to explain."

Harry and Hermione leaned back into their own chairs as the ancient wizard began to tell the story. A story of how three brothers, each a powerful and mighty wizard, had an encounter with Death. How each brother asked something from Death, and how Death had crafted three items of great and power magic to fulfill their requests. And the tragic tale of two of the brothers who succumbed to the hidden flaw in their desires, while the third one lived a long and happy life that only ended when he was ready to pass on.

The first thing to catch Harry's attention was the family name held by the three brothers. Peverell. It was the same last name as one of Harry's traits, and it took all of Harry's concentration to resist pressing on the trait to learn more until Dumbledore had finished telling the story.

When the man had finished his story with the moral of how a person should be careful for what they wish, Harry raised his voice. "Um, Professor, before you continue speaking, there's something I think that you should know."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well," Harry said after taking a deep breath, "I'm pretty sure that I have something under my stats page that has to do with what you were just talking about. Or, well, two things actually. You see, I have something called 'Peverell Bloodline' under the trait section, and another trait called 'Possessor of a Deathly Hallow'."

Dumbledore raised a single white eyebrow at Harry's words. The look on his face was not nearly as surprised as Harry had expected it would be upon receiving this latest revelation. If anything, a subdued look of joy or triumph shot through Dumbledore's eyes upon Harry's words.

No was Harry the only one to notice it. At his side, Hermione spoke up in a worried tone. "That revelation did not come as a surprise just now. Did it, sir?"

After a short pause, during which a number of inscrutable emotions passed across his face, the Headmaster replied to Hermione in a cautious tone of voice. "No my dear. I am afraid that it does not come as a surprise to me as it falls in line with several other theories I have constructed over the many years of my life."

Dumbledore looked up at the stone ceiling and gave a sigh. "There are uncountable mysteries hidden in the past and the future of our world, and even one as brilliant as I cannot know them all. But with that being said, the mystery of the Peverells and their descendants is one which I am eminently familiar with."

Hermione continued to press Dumbledore. "In that case, sir, could you enlighten Harry and myself as to what exactly this mystery might be, and what bearing it may have on him?"

Dumbledore frowned as he continued to stare at the ceiling. "I'm not certain that doing so would be for the best, Ms. Granger. The two of you are so young, and traveling this path before you are ready could damage you in ways that I cannot yet be certain of."

"Nevertheless, sir, I would repeat my question," a queer look passed over Hermione's face as she spoke. One which, so far as Harry knew, the brilliant witch usually reserved when talking about the finer points of transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.

"Or on second thought, sir, I would like to change it." Hermione's tone now had an edge to it. One that Harry had never heard before. "Would you please enlighten us as to the mystery of the Peverells, their relationship with the entity known as Death, and what effects their bargain could have on those descended of their line?"

Another pause settled upon the room at Hermione's words. The brown-haired witch was staring intently at the Headmaster as a passionate flame burned within her eyes. Harry's gaze darted to and fro between them, confused as to why Hermione had suddenly turned so interrogative towards the Headmaster. Considering her usual attitude around authority figures it was a break from her usual behaviour.

Sure, the story of the Peverells had been chilling, but it should not have been to the point of causing Hermione to question the most powerful authority figure they knew. And sure, Harry might be a descendant of the Peverells and have an ability called the Game of Death…

One second after that thought finished found Harry wanting to smack himself on the forehead as an intense feeling of annoyance swept through his brain.

He was an idiot. There was no other way to frame it. A full blown, Draco Malfoy level moron is what he was. What had taken Hermione less than a second to figure out was something which Harry should have figured out even quicker.

The reason why Hermione was suddenly interrogating the Headmaster on this issue was because she was worried. Worried that Harry, as a descendant of the Peverells, had gotten himself involved with something as dangerous as Death itself. And that as a descendant of the Peverells there might be something lurking in the shadows of history which could come back to harm him.

It was a reasonable train of thought considering Harry's penchant for mortal peril. And now that he had finally caught up to her thought process, Harry finally found himself growing worried as well. Because it really was not a pleasant train of thought.

Death. The end of all things which lived. The Grim Reaper. A terrible Angel or fearsome Devil. A divine god or an unstoppable force of nature. Even with Harry's limited exposure to the world he knew that people had applied these names and more to the ending of life.

It was something beyond the scope of human understanding. Maybe beyond even that of the magical world and all of the creatures that inhabited it as well. And if Harry were to be involved with something such as that… well, considering his prior track record, there was a very large chance that things would eventually go very wrong for him somewhere down the line. Most probably in a catastrophic fashion, too.

Considering all of that it was no wonder that Hermione Granger, miss 'authority figures are always right' herself, would question the ancient wizard. It was something that she would do for her best friend and Harry found himself touched beyond measure by it. Perhaps he might have underestimated their bond earlier this year when they had argued over his broom, but he would never do so again.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger would be friends until the end, and that was a promise!

The silence that had fallen upon the room was broken when Dumbledore moved his gaze away from the ceiling and locked gazes with Hermione. "I cannot tell you everything I know. We lack the time, and parts of it touch upon a personal subject which I must ask your forgiveness for withholding at this time. But," Dumbledore said sternly as he held up a finger, "What I can promise is to provide you with a number of tomes to read over this summer. Tomes which will guide you in learning about this ancient subject and some of the equally ancient areas it touches upon, on your own. Would that be an acceptable compromise, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Just as long as the same books are made available to Harry as well."

"I am afraid that that cannot be done," Dumbledore said as he shook his head. "The books in questions are of surpassing rarity as they contain enchantments which make it rather difficult to copy their information. But, should you and Mr. Potter meet up with one another this summer, then I have no objection to you sharing them with him at that time."

"That would be acceptable as well." A bright gleam, familiar to Harry from their hours spent studying together, entered Hermione's eyes. "I can keep notes of what I find and then explain them to Harry as I go along."

"An excellent plan, Ms. Granger. Please know that either of you may correspond with me should you run into something you are unable to understand." Dumbledore turned to look at Harry. "Now, going back to the heart of our discussion, Harry, I must ask. Have you yet tried learning what either of these traits mean?"

Harry shook his head with a grimace. It was slightly embarrassing to answer no to that question. First Hermione had caught him out on not looking into what his traits meant, which had been bad enough, but now Dumbledore had as well. Harry resolved that after tonight's session had ended and he was somewhere quiet that the very first thing he would do would be to select every single trait listed under his name and learn about them.

"No sir, not yet," Harry responded glumly. "But if you give me a moment I can find out. Hermione, could you write it down for the Professor to read as well?"

Hermione nodded and retrieved another piece of blank paper. Harry took a deep breath and selected the two traits.

What he found was not very comforting.

**Ding!**

_**Possessor of a Deathly Hallow**_

_Any witch or wizard bearing this title is in possession of one of the three Deathly Hallows. Possessing a Hallow allows a witch or wizard to use its passive abilities, but grants no other powers or bonuses until the possessor is acknowledged as the item's master._

_**Peverell Bloodline**_

_You are one of, if not the only, remaining member of the Peverell Bloodline. This bloodline has been linked to the ancient Tale of the Three Brothers as told in the story by Beetle the Bard, who himself was descended of this ancient house of powerful magi. Once one of the ruling families of the ancient magical world, the Peverell family suffered a catastrophic fall in power after the deaths of Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. This fall in grace also coincided with the beginning of the Roman Empire's decline, causing several scholars of ancient magical history to wonder if the two events were in any way linked to one another. This theory has not received much traction within the mainstream academic community._

_Yet beware young descendant, for there is always a grain or more of truth to every story. Take heed of the lessons learned by the three brothers Peverell and choose a different path lest ye suffer the same fate as they._

The first trait was rather straightforward. One of the things that Harry owned was one of the three Deathly Hallows that had been mentioned in Dumbledore's story. And while he could use it, it would not give him anything special until he had somehow 'mastered' it.

But as for that second trait… Harry honestly had no idea how or what he should think about it. It was dense, confusing, and possibly even downright threatening at the end. And what it brought up just boggled the mind.

Considering that a higher power – one that, considering his heritage and the name of his new ability, was probably Death – had taken an interest in him, did it mean that Harry was descended from some kind of ancient magical royalty? Was he not only the child saviour of magical Britain, but also destined to be like that one hero out of the Lord of the Rings? Araborn… Aradorn… whatever! Harry had read it almost four years ago, back in his final year of muggle schooling, and the man's name was escaping him.

The important part was that in the beginning of those books the man had seemed to be a mere ranger who hid out in the woods while fighting orcs and goblins. A cool and awesome person, maybe, but just another one of the group of people who were to guard the Hobbit hero. Yet by the end of the series the man had been revealed to be descended from a line of ancient kings and was forced to ascend to the throne in order to stop the forces of darkness from winning before Frodo could destroy the One Ring.

Was that destined to happen to Harry too? In order to beat Voldemort, would he need to rule over the entire magical world? To forge an army and be hailed as king?

Harry felt his eyes begin to widen. His breathing began to grow irregular.

That thought… might be right. The end of the trait had mentioned that he would need to take a different path than the three brothers or suffer from their endings. And according to the story as told by the Headmaster, none of the three brothers had taken the path of the ruler.

No! No, no, no, no, no! Harry's irregular breathing only grew worse at the thought.

God Almighty. Merlin. Morgana. Circe, or even Baba Yaga the merciless. If one of them was listening in on his thoughts and was able to grant him a wish, then please let that not be true. Harry had enough on his plate being the Boy-Who-Lived and fighting against Voldemort. He was only thirteen years old! If he had to become some ancient king who ruled magical Europe on top of all of that then he was going to die.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it either. On this point Harry was certain. Having to become a king would seriously be the death of him, and it would be an absolutely horrible end to boot.

"I-I-I don't know what to say," Harry whispered in fear. He gulped and looked at the Headmaster in desperation. "What does that mean? Am I supposed to be some kind of magical king? Is there a prophecy out there saying that I'm the chosen one, and that I'm destined to either usher in an age of darkness or a golden age of peace? I don't… I don't get it. Why? Why me? Why does this sort of thing _always happen to me?_"

What had started as a whispered plea for help at the beginning had ended in a shout of rage and desperation. Harry felt Hermione lay a hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him, but he shrugged it off and jumped out of his seat. He started pacing again, just like he had after the meeting with Fudge.

Oh God. The meeting with Fudge. What might this revelation mean for Sirius? Heroes from stories like the Lord of the Rings, the Peverells, or mythology rarely had good endings. And just like Harry they all usually lost their parents and had terrible things constantly happen to them.

Harry came to a dead stop as a chill ran down his spine.

Maybe _th__is_ was why his parents had died when he was a child. Because Fate, or Death, or some other Higher Power had decreed it. All in order to bring about some kind of ancient master plan.

And maybe, just _maybe_, that was also the reason why he had been raised by the Dursely's too. Perhaps it was all just some sort of giant plot of destiny, or the gods, or the universe itself to manipulate him into doing what some ancient seer or sorcerer had set into motion millennia before he had ever been born.

But if that were the case, then what might it bode for those who were close to Harry right now?

Sirius was hurt and being held by people who might end up killing him for crimes that he had never committed. Professor Lupin was currently running in the Forbidden Woods as a feral werewolf, where who knew what could happen to him. And even if the kindly professor made it back okay that still left Snape. A detestable, arrogant prick of a man who was determined to expose Lupin's secret just to satisfy some petty schoolboy feud which lay between them.

Not to mention Ron. The last time Harry had seen him, the ginger haired boy had been unconscious with a broken leg.

As for Hermione… Harry could not even bear to think about what might happen to her. Not after what had nearly happened earlier that evening when she had helped him rescue Sirius. That could have resulted in a fate worse than dying for her, and it would have been caused purely because she had followed him out of friendship and loyalty.

Harry tried to push those thoughts out of his head. But a niggling little voice in his mind would not allow him to back away. It continued to draw him further and further down that dark path, like a siren of legend leading the ancient sailors to their deaths. And just like the sirens call, Harry found himself unable to resist listening to it.

Harry placed a shaky hand to his head and ran it through his messy black tresses. No. None of that could be true. It just could not. Because if it was true, then Harry did not know how he would stay sane. If it was true that all of the bad things that happened to people around him were his fault, then he could never allow himself to get close to anyone ever again. And living a life like that, cut off from everyone who had ever shown him an iota of kindness, would kill him more swiftly than a bite from a Basilisk.

It was at this moment that Dumbledore broke Harry's dark train of thought, looking down at Harry with sorrowful blue eyes as he spoke. "I am sorry that such a heavy burden has been thrust upon your shoulders, my boy," the old wizard said softly. "I truly am. It is something which no one your age should have to bear and is something that I have sought to prevent happening in every way that I could. But even in this dark moment, Harry, I do believe that there is at least one silver lining present."

The dark-haired boy raised his gaze and looked Dumbledore in the eyes. "And what would that be, sir?"

"Quite simply that the last true monarch of magical Britain died out in the time of Merlin some fifteen hundred years prior. Furthermore, the founding charter of the British Ministry of Magic explicitly states that there shall be no hereditary ruler or tyrant allowed to possess full and unfettered power over the state."

Harry blinked. "So you are saying…"

"That unless you desire to launch a revolution to topple the government, Harry, you do not have to worry about becoming king in the slightest. As doing so would otherwise be quite impossible in this modern era."

Huh. That actually _was_ a silver lining. One which Harry could very much understand and appreciate. Because it meant that unless he actively took steps to install himself as king, then becoming a magical monarch was extremely unlikely to happen.

An image of him and Hermione dressed in muggle fatigues and wearing bandannas as they hid in some forest like Robin Hood flashed through his brain. The absurd image danced in his mind for a few seconds before he determinedly quashed it. The earlier meeting with Fudge may have left a sour taste in Harry's mouth regarding the governance of Magical Britain, but he had no desire to revolt and install himself as king.

Knowing his luck, doing so would only make things worse. It would probably involve something like causing the surrounding nations to invade, or triggering the release of some eldritch creature the ministry had sealed in some secret magical lab. Or perhaps something even worse!

No, being king was not something which Harry desired. And knowing that it was nearly impossible truly did relieve him and help to calm down his racing mind.

Alas, such relief was destined to be short lived. As was quickly made apparent when Dumbledore leaned forward. The mighty wizard's features had settled into a look of sorrow, his blue eyes moistening with unshed tears.

"It is with great sorrow, my boy, that I must continue our discussion. I wish that it were otherwise, but I cannot in good conscience end our conversation as it stands. For what I am about to tell you next could well make you wish that being king of magical Britain was in fact your fated destiny."

Harry's stomach dropped as he heard those words. They did not bode well. And when things in his life did not bode well, it generally meant something really bad on its way.

"There is a truth known to only a rare few in our world, Harry. Entire departments of the government are dedicated to studying this truth in secret. Many brilliant wizards and witches go decades without even suspecting it, only to end up dedicating the rest of their lives to its pursuit." Dumbledore's eyes flashed and he gave derisive a half-smile. "I myself suspected it during my time as a student of Hogwarts. Yet even I only truly learned of its veracity upon being apprenticed to Nicholas Flamel when I was twenty-five years old."

A calm settled upon the office as Dumbledore spoke. The air tingled with magic and the light of the roaring fire seemed to grow dim. It was as if the ancient wizard had used his words to cast a spell upon the room.

His eyes solemn and serious, Dumbledore continued to speak in a calm and steady voice. "The truth of which I speak is that this world of ours is _more_ than just magical and muggle. That there is more to it than magical folk, enchanting creatures, the wonders of nature, and astounding feats of mundane engineering."

The words Dumbledore conveyed to them were like a spell. Harry found himself leaning in as the old wizard spoke. Harry could feel Hermione do the same in the chair next to him.

"The truth is that this world in which we live contains entities, or forces, which lie far beyond the realm of mortal understanding. Entities which are ancient and powerful beyond all known measure." Dumbledore paused and turned to look directly at Harry. "And sometimes, as has been done this very evening, one or more of those forces will choose to interfere with those of us who dwell on the mortal plane."

Harry gulped again. That foreboding feeling had been right. "So then Death…"

"Does exist on more than just an existential level? Yes, it does. And while you are not destined to be a magical king or emperor, it appears that you have a destiny far beyond what even I could have imagined. Because as your new ability proclaims, and as my own earlier experiment verified, Death has taken an interest in you. But it is more than just that, Harry. Far more."

Dumbledore lifted his wand. From its tip, small shapes burst forth in smoky illusions and slowly flew into the air. "In the time of the ancient Egyptian and Olmec Empires, or even in the later years dominated by Greece and Rome, these higher powers were treated as gods. And those who drew their attention, whom we know as the heroes of myth and legend, were often treated as being children of these beings. Or even as possessing divinity themselves"

The small, smoky shapes slowly took form as the ancient wizard spoke. Hermione began to mumble names under her breath as their features came into focus. "Achilles. Atalanta. Beowulf. Cu Chulainn. Gilgamesh. Louhi. Medea. Odysseus. Sun Wukong."

The forms and shapes of those Hermione named stood arrayed in the air before them. More continued to join their company, swelling their number many times over until not even Hermione could identify them all.

Some of the figures were handsome and beautiful. Others were scarred and hideous. They ranged from old and young to tall and to short. Some had white skin while others had dark, and together they seemed to represent all of the ancient heroes and villains of mythology. Men and women of legend looked down upon Harry and the others as though they were deities upon high, casting judgment down on the three mortals beneath their feet.

It was an incredible sight which filled Harry with both awe and trepidation. Awe, because this is what magic was supposed to be like. What Harry had felt it could be like upon first seeing Hogwarts from the tiny boat on the lake.

Trepidation, because Harry's gut was telling him that this could only herald more hardship for him and his friends. Because things out of myth and legend, like the Basilisk or the Philosophers Stone, had already done so.

Only after the air around them was filled with these figures did Dumbledore resume speaking.

"The men and women shown in the air around us led lives of such vibrancy and brilliance that it resulted in the world remembering parts of their tales for generations after their passing. Tales of courage, battles against adversity, and of triumphs against hopeless odds. They shone as beacons in the darkest of nights and showed what mortals could accomplish should they be given the means to do so."

Dumbledore paused to look at Harry and Hermione in turn. "But each of their tales contains a harsh reminder that their glory was a double edged sword. One which caused a great many of them to perish. Or even to fall from grace. For each one of them had to face terrible trials and tribulations in their lifetimes, and only a rare few succeeded in passing them."

The illusory figures in the air around them began to change. Some cried out in silent voices, mouths open as their bodies were ravaged. Their bodies were consumed by flame, drowned by water, torn about by swords or ruined by magic. Their vast numbers were devastated until only a small, small few were left.

The imagery was vivid and struck Harry intensely. Seeing these figures of myth and legend suffer horrible ends before his eyes drove Dumbledore's point home in a way that mere words alone failed to convey.

"I tell you this not to frighten you, but to illustrate a point. Because as time has gone on, those of us who belong to the magical world have learned from the examples of these individuals. No longer are they believed to be gods, nor even thought to be the children of gods. Instead, we know them as being exceptional individuals who have been chosen for a great purpose. One which is often terrible in nature."

A sigh escaped his lips as Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "So, while I highly doubt that you are destined to be some sort of magical king or world saviour, Harry, the crux of the matter is that you _have_ been marked by a higher power for a reason which is currently unknown. A reason which, when considering your family's history with the entity in question, could be quite tragic in nature."

The old man raised a hand to his face. He gently rubbed his eyes as his body drooped with fatigue. It was a feeling which resonated with Harry as his own body ached with tiredness. It had been a long evening, and the only reason he was still remaining awake right now was out of sheer stubbornness.

"It will take time to understand what this 'game' of yours entails. Time which each of us must spend in pursuing every lead that presents itself. Knowledge will be our second greatest weapon in ensuring your safety, though it is something which," a ghost of a smile flitted across Dumbledore's face, "as your friend Ms. Granger can attest, may only be gained through time and the application of much effort."

The ghost of a smile left, and Dumbledore once more leaned in to stare intently into Harry's eyes. "Yet it is my ardent belief, Harry, that it will only be through the love and support of those around you that you can best equip yourself to overcome the ordeals which loom on the horizon. Friends, allies, and people whom you have yet to meet will aid you in ways that we cannot begin to imagine. And when their strength is added to your own, you will find that even the darkest of storms do not seem so fearsome."

Harry nodded his head at the ancient wizard's words. In his lap, Hermione's comforting grip had changed into a deathly tight squeeze. Harry was certain that if he looked at her, the girl's eyes would be blazing with a fiery determination. He looked over at her and gave her hand a tight squeeze.

"So then, Professor Dumbledore, what would you suggest that we do?" Hermione asked fiercely. Harry's best friend looked focused and intense in a way that he had never before seen. "If this higher power, which you think is Death, really _has_ taken an interest in Harry… then shouldn't we make a plan of action so that he doesn't end up like all of those other people?"

"Not tonight," Dumbledore said as the ancient wizard shook his head. "Because while I do believe that the evidence points to the entity in question being Death itself, it would be terribly unwise to meddle overmuch at this point in time."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but was stopped when Dumbledore held up a hand. "And before you would argue, Ms. Granger, I would counsel you to wait until you begin your extra curricular summer reading. Much will become clear once you possess that knowledge, but for now all you need know is that we must bide our time and wait until we have more information available to us. Even with all of my not inconsiderable power and knowledge, there are still many things in this world that even I cannot change."

A still fiery Hermione looked as though she were about to burst. Dumbledore's words had apparently only served to dampen her flames rather than to extinguish them.

"Then where does that leave us, sir?" The girl asked fervidly. "Most importantly, where does that leave _Harry?_"

Dumbledore's tired gaze turned gentle at Hermione's inquiry. "I believe that it leaves each of us exactly where we ought to be, Ms. Granger. Specifically, early in the morning after a rather long and tiresome evening."

The elderly man sighed and closed his eyes. When he eventually opened them once more he gave Harry and Hermione a tired yet hopeful smile. "Now, the rest of what we must discuss can wait until a later date. If you would be so kind as to jot down the remainder of Harry's various traits before departing, then I would recommend that the two of you make your way back to your dorms for a night of rest. It will take time to learn all that I must in order to provide you with further explanations. And in the meantime I would recommend that the two of you proceed as you always have."

He looked each of his students in the eye. "Be patient, research information on your own, and cautiously explore this new power together. It must be kept secret as the ramifications of its existence would send ripples throughout the entire magical world. You should not speak of it to anyone you do not trust, but sharing it with those who are worthy of your trust is no sin either."

For a moment that was where it felt like the discussion would end. Dumbledore had dismissed them, Hermione's questions had been answered, and it truly was time for sleep. Yet as the Headmaster's words rattled around in his brain, Harry felt something snap.

"What? But – no! We can't leave yet!" Harry yelled. The spellbound effect from Dumbledore's earlier words had broken, enabling Harry to gather his tired wits and object to the state of things. "You can't just send me – us – out of here after telling us something like all of that!"

A part of Harry needed more. He needed more information on what was going on with him. About what being chosen by a higher being meant. About everything that it entailed and what it could do to him and those who surrounded him. Because Dumbledore, the greatest living wizard in the _entire world_, had just given Harry a massive amount of information that was overloading his tired brain.

Harry's situation had just been compared to that of literal heroes from legend – _heroes _for goodness sake – and now he was being told to leave and get a good night's rest? Without being told how he could move forward, and possibly avoid a horrible and messy death?

No. No, he could not handle that. He would not _allow_ that to happen! He needed to stay here in the office. To pry out all of the elderly man's knowledge about what was going on and to _demand_ that the powerful wizard do something further to immediately resolve or change the situation.

But as Harry's words rang out and he looked at the Headmaster's tired face, Harry knew that he was going to lose this argument. That no matter what he did, or how he tried to spin his argument, that Dumbledore was right.

Because for the first time since he had met the powerful wizard, Harry had the feeling that Dumbledore was unsure. Of both what might really be happening in the bigger picture _and_ of how they could move forward to affect it. And if Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of Grindenwald and holder of three hundred other titles of incredible magical feats, was unsure about what to do in this situation… then there was nothing more which could be done but to follow his advice.

Harry was just a thirteen year old student. A student who was consistently over his head and who depended on the advice and help of those around him to scrape through the deadly situations in which he constantly found himself. And if he had no idea how to proceed, and those around him had no idea on now to proceed either, then Dumbledore's words were correct.

They needed to rest and regroup. To think things over, to explore his new ability, and to find out just what it entailed. Doing this would take time and effort to accomplish. And even though every cell in his body was screaming at him to start firing spells from his wand and start breaking the room around him, Harry felt his shoulders droop in defeat.

Solving everything in one night was nothing more than a far fetched hope. A hope which should have died in Harry's breast the instant Dumbledore had begun talking about mythological figures from history.

As Harry slumped back into his chair, Dumbledore followed his movements with a tired gaze. Eventually the Headmaster wearily shook his head. "I cannot deny that sending you away at this time is difficult, Harry. That it is, in truth, yet another burden added to your shoulders. But in all honesty there is nothing more I can do in the time we have remaining this evening."

The old man's tired blue eyes then firmed. "We must rest, research, and regather once we know more about the current situation. As I may remind the both of you, later this morning I will be departing to assist Amelia in handling Sirius' case. And come what may, I guarantee that he will be freed of the Ministry's clutches. So I must regretfully ask that you bear your new burdens as best you can for the time being."

Upon hearing those words Harry's stomach felt like he had swallowed lead. Looking over at Hermione, Harry knew that she too shared this feeling. And that both Dumbledore's words and Harry's own suppositions were correct.

There was nothing more which could be done right now.

Harry finally nodded his head in acknowledgment. Hermione took her hands away from him and, with Harry's assistance, carefully transcribed the rest of his stats page onto several pieces of parchment.

After looking over it with raised eyebrows that only grew higher as he read, Dumbledore again repeated his advice on proceeding forward with caution before motioning them towards the exit. Then, shoulder to shoulder, both students made their way down the spiraling staircase and into the dark hallways of Hogwarts.

* * *

Harry was lying in his four poster bed and staring at the ceiling. Exhaustion was coursing through his body, but he was taking care of the final thing he needed to do before he could drift off to sleep. It was something he should have done the moment he had gotten this new ability, and had been left alone for too long.

He was finally taking the time to read through every single one of his traits and titles. The large number of other notifications he had received throughout the night had been shifted to one side for him to deal with later. It was a handy feature of the Game which he was currently taking full advantage.

So far Harry had been pleasantly surprised by what he had come across. Several of the traits and titles, like the Parseltongue one, were pretty straightforward. It gave him a mild bonus to his intelligence and charisma attributes, gave him positive reputation with other Parseltongue speakers, and negative reputation with people who thought the ability to be Dark in nature.

None of which Harry found to be surprising as much of it – barring the attribute increases – was pretty much what he and Hermione had surmised on their own after the events of their second year. When you could speak to snakes and the entire school except for the Slytherins turned their back on you because of it, it was pretty clear that Parseltongue was rather unpopular. The intelligence and charisma bonuses were nice… but not enough in Harry's opinion to make up for being ostracized from nearly everyone around him.

Still, it was a nice, simple trait. Others ones were… a little more complicated. In ways that gave him a throbbing headache. Harry had found himself staring at one particular title for a long time, wondering if he was really worthy to bear it.

_**Heroic Child**_

_A rare title only given to children who meet strict requirements. They must have the Loyal, Humble, True Friend, and Survivor traits. They must also be aligned against anything Dark or Evil. Most importantly, they must have knowingly saved the lives of others at great risk to their own for little to no personal gain. Gives an automatic 15% boost to leveling any skill, +10 to the charisma attribute, +5 to both mental attributes, +1000 reputation points with ordinary citizens, +5000 reputation points with anyone who is a friend or family member of someone they have saved, +10000 reputation points with anyone they have saved, -1000 reputation points with anyone who bears a title related to the Seven Deadly Sins, and -5000 reputation points with anyone who is aligned with the Dark Arts._

One thought kept running through Harry's head while he had stared at it. That the description could not possibly apply to him. He was not a hero, no matter how many times other called him such.

Oh sure, he might have fought against Voldemort back in his first year, and against some shade of his back in second year, but Harry did not really see those actions as being heroic. If anything he was just acting how any Gryffindor should.

And when Hermione had named some of the smoky figures who came out from Dumbledore's wand, Harry had understood enough to know that many of the people mentioned were not even 'heroes' in any sense of the word. Heck, if he remembered his mythology right, that Medea woman had murdered her own children! So that talk definitely had nothing to do with Harry being any kind of a hero.

If anything the Game must have given Harry that title due to a lucky series of coincidences. If not, then he was sure that such a title could not be all that uncommon amongst the other students. People like that one really nice guy, Diggory, must have similar titles. Because if there was one thing Harry knew about himself it was that the only truly amazing thing about Harry James Potter happened to be his utterly rotten luck.

But as if to counterbalance that terribly inaccurate title and all of the self-debt it brought with it, there were also traits which brought a wry smile to Harry's lips. Traits whose accuracy was beyond any shadow of reasonable doubt.

Of them, The Dark Arts Magnet and Walking Target traits were two blindingly obvious examples.

_**Dark Arts Magnet**_

_Anyone who bears this trait is a magnet for the Dark Arts. Wherever they go, the shadow of the Dark Arts will hang over their lives. They can never escape from its grasp and will have it continually flung into their path. Increases by 50% the speed for learning either Defense Against the Dark Arts or Dark Arts spells and rituals. This trait cannot be changed or removed over time._

_**Walking Target**_

_Anyone in possession of this trait has been marked by a higher power. Powerful opponents will desire to seek them out, and their lives are generally short once this trait has been gained. This trait can be removed or changed over time._

The first trait was somewhat depressing, but it confirmed for Harry what he had always suspected. That the bad things which always seemed to follow him were not without reason. That there was something about Harry himself which attracted them and that it was never going to end so long as he lived. Seeing it was not some new revelation, but instead was more akin to the addition of a period to to a sentence. The trait merely stated what Harry had thought since before he ever came to Hogwarts.

That trait would have been nearly as depressing as the first were it not for two things. First, that he had already been told as much by Dumbledore. Which was truly amazing considering that the ancient wizard had been unable to see anything due to his ban. Harry guessed that it just one more reason as to why so many people referred to Dumbledore as one of the wisest and most intelligent wizards to ever live.

The second reason was because of the final sentence. The part which said that the trait could be removed or changed over time. Unlike his issue with the Dark Arts, Harry's current position of being marked by a higher being could possibly be a temporary situation. Temporary! Which was something that never happened to all those people from myth and legend. Right? They either stayed marked forever, or they died. The latter of which was something that Harry, for better or for worse, seemed to have a knack in avoiding.

Something which was no doubt aided by the Duellist and School Quidditch Star traits. These two were nice, and Harry could definitely agree with them. Harry was more than just good on a broom; he was _really_ good. And although he did not consider himself to be a duellist in the wizarding view of the term, he had definitely been involved in enough magical fights to qualify for it.

_**School Quidditch Star**_

_The bearer of this trait is more than just talented at the game of Quidditch. They are able to dominate their position at the designated level and have the potential to go even higher. Gives a +10 to all physical attributes and the charisma attribute, +2000 reputation points with Quidditch fans, and +5000 reputation points to anyone bearing the trait Quidditch Fanatic. This trait can be removed or changed over time._

_**Duellist**_

_A witch or wizard with this trait has been in more than one magical fight. They are usually limited to theory, practice duels, and controlled matches. Gives an automatic +10 to both mental attributes and +5 to the dexterity attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time._

The Golden Boy title was nearly as annoying as his heroic child title, but he figured that since Hermione had possessed a similar one then it must not be terribly difficult to obtain. For all he knew at least half of the upper years at Hogwarts might have it.

Harry knew for a fact that he would definitely not be the only one with either the Headstrong, Half-Blood, or Negotiator traits either. Seeing Hermione with the same Dedicated trait, as well as the other traits they shared in common, added weight to this theory in Harry's mind.

The Battle Hardened trait he had obviously received from his many close brushes with death over the years. Same with Foe of the Dark and Survivor; while Clutch Performer basically just said that he did well under pressure and Basilisk Slayer had obviously been gained when he had killed the basilisk.

He had already gone over the Loyal and True Friend traits with Hermione, and the Humble trait fit right in with them. Just seeing it placed on him made Harry squirm a little, although he was able to acknowledge that that trait might actually fit him. It also gave him plus twenty to his charisma attribute and a whole bunch of reputation points both positive and negative.

Elf-Friend was somewhat neat, as Harry assumed that it referred to how he had saved Dobby from the Malfoy's around this time last year. While the Boy-Who-Lived trait and title made him want to gag from annoyance. Hearing about that title from everyone in the magical world had been bad enough, but now he could not even avoid it in the Game!

The trait which had surprised him the most was the Weak Familiar Bond. Ever since he had gotten her from Hagrid, Harry had known that Hedwig was special. The owl was too smart for her own good, and had wriggled her way into Harry's heart from the moment they met. Yet to know that they had a literal magical bond which tied them together had made Harry's eyes tear up in joy.

_**Familiar Bon****d**_

_An uncommon bond which forms between a magical creature and a human. This bond ties the two together in ways that are not fully known. What is known is that both of the bonded receive a boost to their mental attributes depending on the strength of the bond between the two. This trait can be removed or changed over time._

And if that had made him tear up then two other traits had made Harry outright bawl. It had taken him a few minutes of hesitation, his finger shaking in the air over it, but eventually Harry had selected the trait dealing with the Potter family.

_**Heir Apparent to the Potter Family**_

_A title denoting the current heir to the magical line of the House of Potter. This title gives the bearer access to the Potter Underage Trust Vault and all Potter Family Properties. It also gives +1000 reputation with Pureblood Sympathizer trait bearers, +2000 reputation with fellow nobles, and increases the speed of ones ability to learn Transfiguration and DADA spells by 50%. This title can be removed or changed over time._

Seeing that trait was affirmation that he had been denied for so many years. Harry might not be destined to be some kind of magical king – which was of great relief – but instead had something more important. He had a family. He had roots, and history, and ancestors who had looked like him. Had been wizards and witches who had used magic just like he did.

Sure, he had only learned it through some strange power which might or might not have marked him for some kind of destined conflict, but that power had given him something that few others ever had. Proof that Harry was _more_ than just the unwanted nephew of Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and that his family line stretched back for generations. It was a connection to his father that Harry desperately wanted to explore, and had promised to himself that he would speak about with Remus or Sirius at the earliest opportunity.

It was the second trait, though, which had made Harry weep into his sheets for several minutes straight. Because as great as the knowledge of the Potter family had been, the next trait had given him undeniable proof of something he had always wondered but never known for sure. About whether his parents had loved him.

_**A Mother's Protection**_

_This trait is unique to Harry Potter and is a result of the sacrificial protective spell cast upon him by his mother the night of Voldemort's defeat. This trait gives a +50% chance to ignore the effects of any true Dark Magic spell, the ability to inflict instant damage to Lord Voldemort's body or soul through physical contact, and complete immunity to magical harm or detection while living with her sole remaining blood relative, Petunia Dursley. This trait has weakened over time and will eventually disappear once Harry Potter reaches the age of his magical majority._

There, in that trait, was an explosive amount of information. It told him why Quirrell, who had been possessed by Voldemort during their battle back in Harry's first year, had suffered such intense pain when the man had touched Harry. It told him why he had been sent to live with the Dursley's back when he was a child, and the probable reason as to why he had been made to return to them even after he had rejoined the magical world.

But most importantly the trait said that his mother had sacrificed herself to protect him. That she had _known_ the spell would cost her her life. And that she had still cast it anyway.

That Lily Potter, Harry's mother, had loved him enough to give up her life in order to keep him safe from the most powerful evil wizard of their time.

These two revelations had rocked Harry's world and were what had led to him staring at the ceiling above his bed. Even just thinking about them caused a warm feeling to grow inside of his chest, and had flung thoughts of the evening's roller coaster ride of emotions and events to the side.

Harry James Potter had been loved. He had a family history. One which stretched back for generations. When these revelations combined with the lingering warmth he felt from Hermione's displays of friendship that evening, Harry did not think that there was anything that could bring him down.

Because for the first time in his life, things were looking up for him in almost every area. While Voldemort was still out there, and some higher power had taken an interest in him, Harry Potter was not alone. He had people like Dumbledore and professor Lupin on his side. He had incredible friends like Hermione and Ron, and if everything went well then he might even be leaving the Dursley's to live with Sirius.

Harry even had the ability to grow and affect the world around him in a way he had never dreamed. With the help of the Game Harry could see his life changing. It would help him grow in power and strength. Perhaps strong enough to avoid the terrible fates that had befallen all those heroes and villains of legend, and to protect those who surrounded him.

If it did, then Harry could easily bear with whatever Death intended for him. Everything else was secondary to keeping those he loved and cared for safe from harm.

It was only on the next day when he was taking care of his morning ablutions in the shared third year bathroom for boys that Harry realized he had missed clicking on one of the traits. He had dozed off while thinking about all of the happy things that he had discovered, and the title of the trait had not seemed to be important.

Harry swished some water around in his mouth as he absent-mindedly clicked on the trait and read its description.

_**Horcrux:**_

_A creation of the __most__ foul and evil of Dark Magics. Anything which bears this trait has had a portion of a Dark Wizard or Witch's soul grafted onto them. Creatures, especially sapient ones, are heavily affected and changed by this status. Gives a -10 to all stats, the possibility of obtaining or using skills possessed by the Dark Wizard or Witch __in question__, and runs the risk of personality contamination for any sapient creature which bears this title. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty. Its negative effects can also grow worse over time should the connection between the host and the foreign soul go unresolved or, in the worst case, strengthen._

"Aww, c'mon Harry. Learn to keep it in your mouth why dont'cha," a wet Seamus Finnigan grumbled as he wiped his face off. "If yer going to do the muggle way of tooth cleaning, don't just spit it on the guy standing next to ye. That's just rude."

**A/N:** And with this chapter we are _done_ with the initial introduction section. That one day/evening took a few chapters to get through, but I thought that it was best to spread it out rather than slamming all of you with one big info dump. But now that it is over I will be speeding through the few days remaining in the school year, having Harry do some quests, and then plunging into the summer.

I also tried to work in a great deal of subtle (and not so subtle) plot foreshadowing into this chapter… as well as purposefully inserting quite a few red herrings ;-). What follows in the next few chapters will be me rearranging the plot and changing character assignments from canon for a good part of the major cast. By the time the summer finishes Year 4 should be totally AU.

And then the fun will _really_ begin. Because by that point Harry will be well-versed in gaming mechanics, the supporting cast will be setup, and the antagonists will be out for blood.

Updated on 12/12/2019

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	7. Chapter 7: An End to the Trio

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Seven: An End to the Trio**

Harry had a headache. A massive headache. One he had gotten from spending the last ten minutes staring at the text for the Horcrux trait. Rubbing his eyes had failed to make the traitorous text change, and wishing at it to go away had also failed.

It was with a sigh that he closed the page of text and leaned his head against the bathroom mirror. Seamus Finnigan had left a few minutes ago, giving Harry the room to himself. He allowed the mirror's cool surface to calm the pain in his pounding brain.

A rumble echoed through the air, causing Harry to sigh. He placed a hand on his stomach and removed his forehead from the mirror's surface. After all of the stress, physical exertion, and magical expenditure of yesterday Harry felt as though he could eat a horse.

So he shoved aside this latest bit of news – placing it into the same mental box that he had labelled 'terrible yet annoyingly logical magical revelations' – and left the bathroom. Harry dressed in his black school robes, trimmed in Gryffindor's colours, once he made it back to his trunk. Then he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

To his great surprise Harry was actually one of the first to make it down. Other than a few older Ravenclaws going over some last minute pieces of O.W.L. prep, and a pair of giggling Hufflepuff girls who kept throwing glances his way, Harry was virtually alone within the massive stone chamber. After having lived on Ron's rather slow clock for three years the sight was unfamiliar to the dark-haired boy.

There was no sign of Seamus either, despite the fact that the other boy had not been present in their dormitory when Harry had come back from the bathroom. Seamus' absence was a mystery, but not one which piqued Harry's interest. Thinking of Ron's eating habits had brought the ginger haired boy to the forefront of Harry's mind. Especially as Harry had been unable to visit the other boy to check up on him after the events of the previous day. Harry resolved that once he had finished eating his breakfast and had met up with Hermione, the two of them needed to visit the hospital wing to check on their injured friend.

Although the memory of how the taller boy had gotten hurt in last night's events caused Harry to wince while he ate his morning porridge and fruit. Scabbers being revealed to have been a Death Eater had not been an easy revelation for Ron to handle. Considering that the rat had shared the bed of several Weasley boys over the years _and_ had been treated as a member of their family… well, it was likely that Ron would still be in shock over it even now. Harry would probably need to step lightly around the subject of Wormtail for the next few weeks. Or perhaps even the next few months.

Anyone would have a right to be infuriated by something like that. And knowing Ron as Harry did, the dark-haired boy was certain that his red-headed friend would be feeling a large dose of anger at himself for missing all of the signs.

Harry made sure to snag a couple of chocolate and blueberry muffins and stuff them into his robes. Having a full stomach always put Ron into a better mood, and the food that Madam Pomfrey served to those who were under her care could be somewhat… sparse. Not bad. Just, not abounding in generous helpings like Ron generally preferred.

After finishing his light breakfast – Harry did not think that he could keep anything heavy down – and seeing that the Great Hall was still mostly empty, Harry finally did what he had been putting off since the moment he had first woken up. He turned his attention to a softly glowing set of text just at the edge of his vision; it was all of the notifications he had received yesterday but had ignored.

Now would be as good a time as any to go through them.

He was happily surprised when there was no accompanying ding when he brought them up. That made pouring through them easier on his still somewhat groggy mind. Thankfully a great number of them were either mildly entertaining or gave Harry cause for hope.

**Quest Completion Notification**

**Tutorial Session has Been Fully Completed**

**You Have Managed to Successfully Cast The Patronus Charm and Have Sent the Dementor's Flying**

**Quest Rewards:**

**Continued Life**

**Continued Life for Hermione and Sirius Black**

**+50000 Reputation with Both**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Prove the Innocence of Sirius Black**

**Sirius Black is an Innocent Man Whose Good Name Has Been Tarnished**

**Do What You Can to Help Him**

**Quest Rewards:**

**A Family**

**A New Place to Live**

**+10000 Reputation with Amelia Bones**

**Quest Completion Notification**

**Prove the Innocence of Sirius Black**

**You Have Managed to Keep Sirius Black Alive and out of the Hands of the Inept Minister Fudge**

**The Ball is in Amelia Bones' and Albus Dumbledore's Court and Things are Looking Good**

**Quest Rewards:**

**A Family**

**A New Place to Live (Once Sirius Black is Exonerated)**

**Main Quest Alert Notification**

**I, Horcrux**

**You Have Discovered that You Are a Horcrux**

**This Horcrux is Linked to the Dark Lord Voldemort**

**Find a Way to Destroy all of Voldemort's Horcrux' Before your Final Confrontation**

**Quest Rewards:**

**Title: Reaper of Souls**

**Trait: Former Horcrux**

**Continued Life**

**Possible Death of Lord Voldemort**

**Progress:**

**1/7 Horcrux' Destroyed**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Save Your Teacher's Job**

**Professor Lupin is in Danger of Quitting his Job Due to the Influence of a Horcrux Powered Curse**

**Find the Horcrux located in Hogwarts and Destroy it Before Lupin Leaves**

**Quest Reward:**

**Lupin Remains your DADA Teacher**

**+10000 Reputation with Professors Lupin and Dumbledore**

**Progress Toward Main Quest**

The first notification was well within Harry's expectation. He had already seen a similar notification regarding the tutorial session and had moved past it. It was old hat by this point.

Meanwhile, the notification about there being a quest to prove Sirius' innocence – one that Harry had already completed – was stunning. Considering the way the Game seemed to work, with quests to save or aid those close to him, it made sense that there would be something regarding Sirius' innocence. But to know that Harry had already completed it was rather… anticlimactic.

Harry was used to being the one to solve things. It was what he did. And to know that the rest of the quest to save his newly revealed godfather was out of his hands, and that the Game felt there was nothing more he either could or should do to help Sirius, was a bizarre feeling. The people around Harry, often including the adults, had proven so inept over the years that Harry had often found himself disregarding them completely. Because if it were otherwise, then there would likely have been no need at all for him, Hermione, and Ron to have risked their lives so many times.

Oh sure, there might be a few examples to the contrary; individuals like Professors Lupin, McGonagall, and Dumbledore, but by and large Harry had found that he could trust in himself and his friends more than he could in adults. Terrible teachers like Snape and Lockhart and Trelawney had only solidified this opinion. One which had initially been formed under the harsh environment of the Dursley household.

But, if leaving things in the hands of Dumbledore and Amelia Bones led to Sirius getting free, then Harry was willing to give it a shot. He would place his trust in Dumbledore, in the Game, and in this Amelia Bones person, and pray that his new ability was correct.

But if something happened to Sirius while Harry waited, then Harry swore that he would never trust _any_ of them again. Having even the slightest possibility of having a home and a family besides the Dursley's was just too much. The knowledge that he had discovered last night, that Harry had a family history, and that his mother had loved him enough to knowingly sacrifice her life for his own, was too fresh for him.

Losing Sirius and all that the man could represent to him in the future would crush Harry. Crush him in a way that the Dursleys, with all of their neglect and venom over the years, had never succeeded in doing.

**Ding!**

**Party Member Hermione Granger Has Awoken**

**Would You Like to Send a Message?**

**Yes or No**

Harry blinked at the notification, broken from his depressing train of thought. Then the boy grinned to himself. "Finally, a chance to have some fun with this thing," he muttered under his breath. "But what sort of message should I send?"

After a quick question to the game's help feature, Harry learned how to type messages silently. The tool was more helpful than usual and even gave him additional information. This function of the Party Feature apparently only worked when a party member was within a ten mile radius of another party member. Which meant that this new tool, while useful, was certainly limited.

Knowing that it would become useless upon leaving Hogwarts was a little annoying, but Harry guessed that it would keep Hedwig happy. Being able to send messages to those closest to him at a whim could have put the snowy owl out of a job. Something which would have certainly ruffled her feathers and earned him more than a few of her angry finger nips.

Harry spent a minute or two before coming up with something that was sure to get Hermione moving. After rereading the message one final time to make sure that he had entered it correctly, Harry sent it off with a big grin. The message would earn him a deserved slap or two, but the sheer amusement offered by it would be worth it.

Harry cocked his head back as a thought occurred to him. Maybe he had been spending too much time around the Weasley twins this year if he was starting to think like that. Still, that was a thought for another day, and Harry switched his focus to thinking about how he could save Professor Lupin's job.

Harry used the relative quiet of the empty dining area started to plan on how he could accomplish the quest. Idea after idea was discarded as he thought about how to go about saving Lupin from the curse. His mind eventually got stuck on the quest's mention of a Horcrux and turned to thinking about his own trait regarding it. Perhaps the two were related in some way.

As Harry was contemplating about whether both Horcruxes were related to Voldemort, and whether he had a part of the Dark Wizard's soul inside of his own body, a hard slap to the back of Harry's head brought him crashing back to reality.

"Harry James Potter, how _dare_ you do that to me first thing in the morning. _T__hat was not funny!" _Hermione hissed at him as she rained down further blows upon Harry's shoulders. "I screamed so loud when I saw your message this morning that I caused Lavender to fall out of her bed!"

The girl's merciless onslaught continued as Harry raised his arms to defend himself. "I will have you know that I got O's or EE's on every single end of year exam that I took. _Every single one!_ And I am _nothing_ like a squirrel! So you take it back, Harry James Potter. Now!"

Raising his hands to try and grab her slim arms, Harry tried to speak up for himself. "But Hermione, look at you! You're all bright eyed and bushy haired –"

"Harry James Potter and Boy-Who-Lived, if you continue speaking then I _swear_ that your inane little title will be invalidated before this morning ends!"

Laughing, Harry decided to give in to his fate and surrender. He had already succeeded in brightening the morning and starting things off on the right foot. Besides, if he continued speaking, then Harry was fairly certain that Hermione might actually carry through on her threat.

The bushy-haired gave him a few more slaps and pulled his ears several times before finally exhausting herself on the subject. Still eyeing him warily, she sat down next to him with a huff. Her pretty brown eyes glared at him as she spread jam on top of a piece of toast. "Anyway, Harry, what on Earth are you doing up so early? I thought for sure that you would sleep past noon."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I got hungry. And once I was awake I thought that I should probably look through my you-know-what a little more in-depth."

"Oh, Harry! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The girl exclaimed as she gave him a one armed hug. Hermione wore a mile-wide smile that surprised him with its sheer intensity. "After three years you are finally starting to see the light. Getting a quick start on things is wonderful! I looked through part of it myself, but, um, I got distracted by a different page before finishing your traits."

A light blush suffused her cheeks , but she kept speaking before Harry could call her out on it. "Well, go on now. What have you discovered? Is there anything that I can do to help?"

Harry nodded absent-mindedly as he wiped off several crumbs from his robe. "There's a lot to go over, but it'll probably be better if you just read my stats page yourself. Once you finish we can start to plan. The main ones to pay attention to are A Mother's Protection, Heir Apparent to the Potter Family, and Horcrux."

"Ah. Yes. I read the Heir title last night – it's an interesting title, and brings up some bigger questions which I'll need to look into at some point – but I had not gotten to the other two yet." Hermione said as she bit into her piece of toast. The girl then brought up Harry's page and used her free hand to tap at the traits Harry had just mentioned.

It occurred to Harry that he should probably question why Hermione was still able to do all of this since he had not invited her back into his party that morning. But he guessed that it was just part of the Game's Party feature. He would be sure to ask the Help feature later just to confirm, but maybe anyone who was invited to his party would stay in it unless otherwise removed.

Harry smiled at the thought. Other people might have been annoyed at the possibility of sharing their secrets and current status with others on such an intimate level, but not Harry. To him it was something new and exciting. He had grown up shunned and often times alone. So the knowledge that Harry could forge a connection with someone he cared about, know what that person was doing at all times, and have that person know the same about him… was a truly pleasant benefit the Game had given to him.

Sure the Game had been forced upon him by an omnipotent deity or force of nature without giving Harry full knowledge of what he was getting himself into. As well as possibly – and rather tenuously, in Harry's opinion – connecting him to a long line of mythological and historical figures. And sure, said powerful being might possibly possess its own nefarious reasons for doing so, but Harry was willing to overlook them for the time being.

The Game came with a large number of positives. Between forging tighter bonds with those close to Harry, giving him information about his family, and helping him to aid good people like Sirius and Remus… well, the Game might actually be worth whatever trouble lay ahead.

A mild choking sound from Hermione caught Harry's attention. He looked over in concern and slapped her back a few times before handing her a glass of water. His best friend gratefully took the glass from him and downed it.

Once the glass had been emptied, and Hermione could breath again, the bushy-haired girl stared at him with tears in her eyes. At first he thought that it was because she had been choking on her toast. But when her hands raised to cover her mouth it only took Harry another instant to figure out why.

Harry struck pre-emptively before his best friend had a chance. He wrapped her up in a loose hug, one that the bushy-haired girl returned with crushing force as she began to sniffle.

"It's okay Hermione," he said softly, rubbing a comforting hand on the small of her back. "My life has never been easy, and knowing the truth about my connection with Voldemort just means that I now know how to hit him where it hurts. It's really not so bad."

"But it's not okay. It's not okay at all!" Hermione cried into his chest. "you have a piece of someone else's soul inside of you, Harry. And it can't be anyone else other than him! But why! Why is it that such terrible things always happen to you?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Probably because of the Dark Arts Magnet trait that I have. Or maybe because Voldemort was jealous that I would become a super handsome and powerful wizard that all of the witches would love. Y'know, like you said last night."

Harry chuckled when Hermione punched his chest with a closed fist. The following glare she levelled at him showed that she was not amused. "Yeah, that was a pretty lame attempt at humour. It wasn't nearly as funny as my morning message, right? _Oof!_"

This time Harry could not give a chuckle since he lacked the air in his lungs to do so. Hermione had buried her closed fist in his stomach, and had done so with as much force as her slim arms could generate. Her normally sweet features appeared rather dangerous as she wagged a finger in his general direction.

"That topic is now forbidden, Mr. Potter. You are never allowed to mention that message to me ever again. _Especially_ in a self-derogatory tone. Am I understood?"

"Yes!" Harry wheezed out as he held his hands up in surrender. He had deserved that last punch, but knowing that did not make it hurt any less. "Whatever you say, Hermione."

"Good. Now understand this. No matter whatever else we find out about your circumstances, no matter _what_ terrible revelation comes at us in the future, I meant each and every word I said yesterday. I will be with you until the end, Harry, whatever that end might be and whatever might happen along the way to it. Got it?"

"Got it, Hermione."

"Good. Now grab those muffins next to you and get up. It's time to go visit Ronald so that we can fill him in on every that he's missed." Hermione hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to whisper. "Also, before we go, have you tried using Observe on any of the other students or teachers?"

Harry smacked his head with one of his hands. "Nope, I forgot. But I'll do it now and make the pages small so that we can talk about them as we walk."

"Good. In that case I'll grab the muffins while you do that. Just keep your wand hidden in your sleeves while you cast it, Harry. We don't want you to start scaring people who see you pointing your wand at them while muttering a spell under your breath."

Harry's lips twitched at her phrasing – Fred and George would have had a field day with it – but he managed to restrain himself from commenting. A few whispers of 'observe' later and he had captured all of the people currently in sight. A few Ravenclaws and Slytherins of various years, as well as the duo from Hufflepuff and a gaggle of first year Gryffindors.

Their business completed, Harry and Hermione stood up from the table and made their way to the exit. Just before they made it, Ginny emerged from the stairs and looked directly at them. The pretty girl's freckled features lit up when she saw them.

Not wanting to appear rude Harry gave her a friendly wave. "Hey Ginny, we're on our way to see your brother in the Hospital Wing. Do you have any idea how he's holding up?"

Ginny gave a wry smile as she shook her head in response, causing her short ponytail of red hair to sweep along her shoulders. "Nope, but from what Madame Pomfrey told us last night he should be able to leave later this afternoon. She managed to heal his leg and head injuries, but wanted to keep him around just in case he displayed any other symptoms."

"Gotcha. Thanks Ginny! I'll let you know if she tells us anything different." They waved goodbye to one another and went along their respective ways.

Hermione shot him a look as they parted from the redhead. But when he raised an eyebrow at her in confusion all Hermione did was sigh and shake her head. Which confused Harry even further as he had no clue as to what had caused her reaction in the first place.

He had been perfectly nice to Ginny. The two of them had probably exchanged more words just then than they had in the entire year. And since Ron's sister had been perfectly nice as well, everything should have been fine. Whatever had caused Hermione to shoot him a look and then sigh must be related to something else. Because otherwise it made no sense.

Harry and Hermione made their way through the slowly filling halls. Students of all houses were moving through the corridors. Some going to the library to study before their exams. Others meeting up with friends or lovers to plan out their day. It was a riotous explosion of life and energy where before there had only been silence.

Harry could feel his magic begin to sing as the castle began to wake alongside its inhabitants. It was a wonderful feeling that he had only experienced since coming to the Wizarding world, and was probably one of the things he missed most during the summers.

Being in a magical place like Hogwarts, or even the Weasley household, was different than living in a muggle residence. All homes and buildings had a rhythm to them, but magical ones just had something extra. Something… more.

Harry had no word for it. And the only time he had mentioned it to his friends both Hermione and Ron had looked at him like he was crazy. So Harry had let it pass and kept it to himself as his own personal little secret.

At a nudge and whispered word of admonishment from Hermione, Harry also made sure to keep casting the Observe spell as they walked. He let his enjoyment of the castle's magic fade to the back of his mind so that he could concentrate on remaining undetected.

It was a success. By the time they had reached the hospital wing, Harry had been able to capture nearly fifty students of varying ages, years, and house affiliation. He made sure to minimize their windows and did his best to ignore the constant dings that sounded whenever a new one appeared.

After several minutes of walking, the two friends pushed open the doors to the Medical Wing and poked their heads inside. Seeing Madame Pomfrey awake and seated at a nearby desk, the two young students made their way over to her.

Harry tried to cast Observe on the cheerful matron, but only shook his head when the resulting notification was filled with question marks. It was mildly annoying to have this limit shoved in his face once again, but considering all of the bizarre magical maladies the woman had to treat on a weekly basis it was probably a very good thing that she was more than a hundred levels higher than him.

Madam Pomfrey noticed them once they had arrived at the side of her desk. The woman held up a finger while she finished some paperwork. It did not take long before it was complete, and once it was done the wire-haired woman turned her attention to the duo before her.

"Ah, Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger. It is a pleasure to see both of you here as guests rather than as patients, I must say. Am I correct in assuming that you are here to visit Mr. Weasley?" Both students nodded their heads. "Wonderful. He just woke up ten minutes ago and is allowed to see visitors. Just walk towards the back and you will see him. He can fill you in on any medical details he may wish to share, but I ask that you be mindful and keep your voices down so as not to disturb the other patients."

With a quick 'thank you' and 'yes ma'am' to the kind lady, Harry and Hermione followed the woman's instructions. They soon found Ron yawning sleepily from a set of pillows propped up behind his back. The gangly redhead was looking outside of the nearby window and had a contemplative look in his eyes.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted out as she gave their surprised friend a hug. Harry smiled as he watched her try to strangle the life out of the startled ginger. As much as Harry enjoyed them, Hermione really did need to learn the value of moderation when it came to hugging.

Still, seeing Ron gasping for air as he feebly tried to extricate himself from the smaller girl's embrace was definitely an amusing sight.

Harry took a seat on the other side of the bed and patted the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry Ron, dying from asphyxiation isn't the worst way to go. You could have been cooked alive in one of Snape's potion cauldron's, or eaten and digested alive by one of Aragog's kids."

Ron managed to get Hermione to loosen her grip enough to draw in a few breaths. "Bloody hell Hermione, can't you give an injured guy a break? It feels like you're trying to finish off what Sirius bloody well started last night." He then turned to fix Harry with a glare. "And Harry, mate, don't even joke about that stuff. It ain't funny! You know that I already have nightmares about both things happening."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, Ron, and mind your language" Hermione chided as she settled into a nearby chair. "My hugs aren't _that_ bad. Besides, Professor Snape would never boil you alive."

"Hermione's right, Ron. He'd probably say that you'd contaminate his cauldrons and ask to borrow Malfoy's instead."

Hermione's well-timed swat was quickly becoming one of Harry's favourite things to instigate. He gave a laugh as he ducked to avoid it. The girl glared at him from the other side of Ron's bed, promising retribution for his terrible jokes the moment they were free from the Hospital.

Seeing that look brought a warm feeling to Harry's stomach. It was an odd yet pleasant glow that ran throughout his entire body.

Ron shook his head as he watched their antics. Apparently having enough of being ignored, the redhead spoke up in a faux huff. "You two are in a surprisingly good mood for what happened last night. Was nearly causing my death and that of the rest of us really that much fun?"

The boy said it with a smile and Hermione gave a soft laugh at his words. But Harry noticed that the smile failed to reach the other boy's eyes and found himself unable to laugh at the red-head's words.

Ron lowered his voice to a whisper and glanced furtively towards Madame Pomfrey. "Did you, uh, you know, manage to save Sirius and catch Scabb- I mean, that bloody traitorous rat? Pomfrey didn't say anything about it and I was worried that asking might cause something bad to happen."

Harry and Hermione shared a look before Harry answered. "A lot of stuff happened last night after you were taken out. But the quick and simple version is that Professor Lupin went off into the woods, Snape got knocked out again, the traitor escaped, and Sirius is being held by the Aurors."

Ron's eyes widened. "Bloody hell mate; that sounds terrible! How can the two of you be in a good mood?"

"Simple. Because even though that happened there's a big silver lining to it all. Think you can keep another secret?" Harry watched closely as Ron nodded his head. "Good. Then let me tell you about something called 'The Game of Death' and how it changed everything last night."

Harry gave a brief overview of the Game. About when it had appeared, how it had helped him so far, and what Dumbledore thought it might mean. Ron's wide eyes had turned to the size of saucer plates by the time Harry had finished speaking. The same look of shock and disbelief that had been present on Hermione and Dumbledore's face the night before was on full display on the red-head's freckled face.

Harry looked at Hermione and gave her a grin. "Don't worry Ron. I have a way to show you that what I've just said is real."

Harry invited Ron to the Party.

The effect was instantaneous. Ron jumped in his bed and swore aloud, causing Hermione to give the gangly boy a swat and another admonishment on his language. Harry just ignored their antics as he proceeded to share both his own and Hermione's stats with the other boy.

Once it was done, Harry pulled up his now awe stricken friend's stats and information and started to look through it.

**Ronald Weasley**

_**Ron Weasley is the youngest son of six and is often thinking of this fact. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive, and constantly doubts himself. Ron regularly wonders whether or not he is worthy of being friends with either Harry or Hermione, as he knows that both are destined for a greatness that he can never achieve. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 14**

**Level 25**

**Stats:**

**STR: 27**

**DEX: 31**

**CON: 38 **

**INT: 35**

**WIS: 11**

**CHA: 35**

**Traits:**

**Oblivious**

**Kind Hearted**

**Quidditch Fanatic**

**Amateur Quidditch Player**

**Boy-Who-Lived-Fanboy**

**Envious One**

**Large Family**

**Quidditch Fanatic**

**Clutch Performer**

**Chess Master**

**Headstrong**

**Pureblood**

**Gullible**

Harry read over Ron's page. Some of it was to be expected, like the Pureblood and Chess Master traits. Other ones made sense to Harry, like the Gullible and Oblivious traits. Those traits might not be very flattering…. but, well, they each suited Ron to a T.

_**Gullible:**_

_Anyone bearing this trait is easily fooled. It has reached the point where it is ingrained in their being. It gives an automatic -10000 reputation points to anyone with the traits Paranoia, Cold Heart, Ambitious, or Calculating. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty._

_**Oblivious:**_

_Any sapient creature which bears this trait is not the sharpest tool in the box. They are slow to make logical connections and fail to pick up on many clues that are obvious to those around them. __This trait can__not__ be removed or changed over time._

_**Envious One**_

_The bearer of this trait suffers from one of the seven deadly sins, Envy. When a situation comes up where they are likely to be jealous of someone else they are prone to taking rash action. The target of the jealousy suffers -5000 reputation points for each action that triggers the bearers envy. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty._

But the things that were making Harry's chest tighten was his friend's description along with the Envious One trait. The moment he had seen the trait Harry had selected it. And the description which had popped up in front of his eyes made Harry's heart hurt even more. Because they were more true than Harry would like to admit.

The issue of Ron's envy had popped up multiple times over the years that Harry had known him. Malfoy tweaked it constantly in their encounters and it reared its head every time a mention of Harry's wealth or fame came up in conversation. Harry had always thought that it was just a momentary thing, something that would get better the older they got.

But if the Game's description was to be believed, then that hope was not likely to happen.

Desperate for some good news about his friend Harry selected the Character Page option on Ron's stats page. This would be the first time he looked at it for anyone, and Harry hoped that it would provide something positive for his friend.

_**Ron Weasley**_

_Ron Weasley is the youngest son of six and is constantly thinking of this fact. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive, and constantly doubts himself. Ron often wonders whether or not he is worthy of being friends with either Harry or Hermione, as he knows that both are destined for a greatness that he can never achieve._

_Although riddled with flaws Ron is a kind person at heart. He holds onto a simple viewpoint of good versus evil; in his eyes, if you are not part of the 'good guys' then you are definitely one of the 'bad guys.' He is a staunch believer in the Light and hates anything to do with the Dark Arts._

_Quidditch and chess are the two things Ron loves most in life. Whether it is talking about his beloved Chuddley Canons or dissecting the latest results of Chess grand championships Ron is filled with passion._

_Ron is a normal teenage boy. He has sometimes risen to face the challenges in his way, but has also fallen to things which should have been easily surmounted._

_Ron has ginger red hair, light blue eyes, white skin, and stands at 4'11. He has broad set shoulders, lean hips, and is of average endowment._

_Allies: Molly, Arthur, Harry, Hermione, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Ginny._

_Friendly: Neville, Seamus, Dean, Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius,_

_Acquaintances: Lavender, Parvati, Percy, Padma, Oliver, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. All unnamed Hogwarts teachers and Gryffindor Students._

_Hostile: Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, Severus, all Slytherins, all Death Eaters._

_Hated Ones: Voldemort._

_Romantic Affections: Daphne Greengrass (high), Hermione (moderate), Lavender Brown (moderate), Susan Bones (moderate), Parvati Patil (weak), Padma Patil (weak), Su Li (weak)._

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry muttered in relief. He felt a little better after reading Ron's detailed page; after seeing some of Ron's traits, Harry had been worried that the Game thought that Ron was a horrible person. But in reality it actually seemed to have a very good grasp of his friend's personality.

Everything that Harry could see was absolutely true. From his friend's strengths to his weaknesses, everything was laid out. Some things he would probably need to ask Hermione about later, like what 'average endowment' meant. Although Harry honestly could have gone without knowing that the boy had a slight crush on their mutual best friend.

That information was… odd. And slightly unsettling in a way that made Harry feel uncomfortable. So he pushed past it and focused on some of the other names.

He did feel a grin begin to reach his lips. Whoever would have ever thought that Ronald Weasley, of all people, would like a Slytherin? Sure, Greengrass was gorgeous – arguably the prettiest girl in their year or possibly any other – but Ron _hated_ anything to do with the house of snakes.

To find out that the boy actually had a massive, secret crush on one of them was hilarious! It was a gold mine, one which Harry could tease the other boy over if Ron ever learned whom Harry… also…

Uh oh.

Wait a moment. If Harry could look up this sort of information about Ron, then did that mean that both the redhead and Hermione could do the same to him? That they could also see the person, or persons, whom Harry liked? As in, like liked?

Harry's face lit up like a furnace at the thought.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no! Harry loved his friends, and he trusted them with his life, but he had not shared that information with _anybody_. No one knew who he liked. Heck, even _he_ was barely certain about who he liked!

Harry turned away from the two friends and whispered 'help' under his breath. If this was an aspect of the Game, then maybe he could control it. Because Harry _really_ did not want to talk about who he may or may not like, as in like like, right then. Nor did he want to discuss it with his friends or anyone else.

**Ding!**

**Help Feature is Now Active**

**Please State Your Query**

Harry wasted no time. "Is it possible to limit the information shared within a Party?"

**Ding!**

**It is Possible to Restrict Information Access Between Party Members**

**Merely State What you Wish to Have Restricted and the System Will Make it Happen**

A feeling of relief swept through Harry as he read those words. Hoping that neither Hermione nor Ron had taken the same action he had, Harry swiftly restricted the Character Page so that only he could have access to it. He made a mental note to look up his own page later. Much later. Maybe when the summer began, or possibly even two years down the line. Preferably when no one was around him too.

If the things that the Game said about Ron were true, then goodness knows what it might say about Harry. There were some things he was just not yet ready to find out about himself.

With that issue taken care of for the time being, Harry turned to face his two friends once more.

Ron was just looking at him with his usual look of confusion. The boy had his head cocked back as he waited for his friend to give an explanation as to why he had suddenly turned away and begun muttering under his breath. But as for Hermione… Harry's face flushed once again when he looked at her smiling face.

Hermione knew that something was up. The way her lips had come together into a little half-smile said it all. She _knew_ what Harry had seen, or close enough to it so as to make little difference.

And for whatever reason it appeared that she was entertained by it. Which, if that were true, meant that she had probably looked up her own information. Or even worse, that she had looked up _Harry's_ information.

Oh God! Maybe that was why she had gone after him over his Oblivious One trait. She knew who Harry liked! And one of those girls – maybe the one he _really_, really liked – also liked him back.

Argh! This was horrible! How would he ever be able to look at his best friend again without thinking about that?

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. He did not want to think about it. He did not want to talk about it. And he really, really, really did not want to think or talk about any of it with his pretty best friend as they sat next to the other member of their infamous trio.

Besides, for all Harry knew he was just imaging it and everything was in his head. Hermione had not said a word to him about it. And since Harry had no interest in bringing it up with her, then maybe he could just pretend that it had never happened.

Harry forced himself to look away from Hermione's bemused stare and tried to clear his throat. It took a few tries. He really was nervous right now.

"So, Ron," he finally managed to get out. "Um, what do you think about the Game?"

**Ding!**

**Mandatory Quest Alert Notification**

**The Value of a Friend**

**Listen to Ron's Words and Make a Decision**

**Quest Reward:**

**Your Friendship with Ron Stays Intact**

**Quest Failure:**

**Your Friendship with Ron is Forever Broken**

Harry was barely able to keep himself from starting at the notification he had just received. Neither Hermione nor Ron reacted though. Which was odd, since it had been one of the loudest yet.

Unless…

Unless maybe they did not see quest alerts like he did. Hermione had not mentioned anything about seeing them last night or this morning. And knowing her, if she had seen something important like that then she would definitely have mentioned it to him. If she did not see it, then it probably meant that quest notifications were solely for him.

And if so, then Harry would probably need to talk about it with Hermione later. But the name of this particular quest caused a block of ice to grow in the pit of Harry's stomach. The name and following description gave him a bad feeling. Especially when he saw Ron's expression begin to change.

The redhead looked at both of his friends and gave them a sad smile. This time, Harry noticed that it _did _reach the other boy's eyes unlike his earlier smile.

"Well, I think that the Game said what the three of us have always sort of known. That the two of you are… special. That you are more skilled, and talented, and stronger than everyone else. And that both of you have some sort of incredible destiny waiting for you. While I..." Ron gave a grimace, as though he were wanted to do anything other than say the words that were about to come out of his mouth. "While I'm about as normal as they come. I'm seriously good at chess, and figure myself to be a pretty good bloke, but… I'm just not in the same league as either of you. At all. And if we keep going on these crazy adventures, fighting Trolls and Basilisks, Dementors and Dark Lords… well, I'll probably either slow you two down, or I'll die somewhere along the way."

For a moment it was all that Harry and Hermione could do to stare at their friend in shock. Then they both exploded at the same, trying to talk sense back into their friend.

"That's not true Ronald! How could you say that?"

"C'mon mate, don't be like that! We never would have made it this far without you!"

"If you would just apply yourself at your studies like I ask, then you have it within you to be a great wizard. Can't you see that?"

"Yeah! Besides, if you aren't around then who'll keep us normal? Hermione and I'd go nuts without you."

Ron held up his hands to quiet them. "Quiet you two. Just… let me finish. Please. I know that this isn't easy for you to hear, but it isn't easy for me to say either. Okay? So please, just let me get it off my chest before I start weeping like a ninny."

Harry opened his mouth to argue with his friend. Hermione looked dead set on doing so as well. But the stern look that Ron shot them, with unshed tears glimmering in his eyes, quieted them both.

"You see, it's something that I've been thinking about all year, and maybe even before then. Both of you are my best friends. We've been through so much already. Gone on the weirdest adventures and seen some really crazy and bizarre stuff while doing it. It's been a blast, and a real honour too."

He took a deep breath. "But it's also made something clear to me. Both of you are smart, and determined. And really, really good at magic. Or in Harry's case, just really determined just dumb enough to not know when to quit."

Harry punched the other boy in the shoulder. He might not be as smart as Hermione, and he knew it, but he was no idiot either.

"Yeah, yeah. Just pulling your chain, mate," Ron grinned at Harry. Then his eyes turned serious once more. "But seriously. Both of you two are _amazing_. And I'm… not. I'm not bad. Or evil. Or stupid or anything. I'm just… me. And the person I _am_ is pretty normal. Which makes what I have to say next really, really difficult."

The tall boy, one of Harry and Hermione's closest friends looked at them both with unshed tears in his eyes. Harry felt tears of his own begin to form in his own eyes just by looking at his friend. And if both he and Ron were this close to crying, then it was a better than even wager that Hermione was right there with them.

"I think that it would be best if we tried to find new friends."

It was like a bombshell had gone off in Harry's stomach at Ron's words.

What was going on? Why did Ron, one of his only friends in the entire world, want to split ways? Was it something that Harry had done? Had Ron become so jealous of Harry that the boy had decided to break off their friendship entirely? Or was it something else?

All of the pain Harry was feeling must have shown on his face because Ron started to wave his hands in desperation. "Which, uh, just to be clear, doesn't mean that I want to stop being friends with either of you or anything, right? I mean we can still hang out during meals, talk about Quidditch, complain about Snape's greasy hair, and help each other on homework. And I'd still really like for both of you to come to my house to visit me over the summer too."

Harry glared at Ron through teary eyes. He could hear Hermione sniffing and knew that she had to be crying from their friend's words. "Then what the bloody hell _do_ you mean Ron? Because the first part sounded like you no longer liked us, while the second part made no sense after the first part. Which one should we believe, huh?"

"Oh bollocks. I've really cocked it up this time," Ron muttered as he ran both hands through his hair. "That didn't come out right. None of it did."

"No shit Sherlock," Harry snapped. "Want to try it again?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just give me a sec though. Sorry. I need to say this right."

Ron took a deep, calming breath as he kept running his hands through his hair. Finally he seemed to arrive at some sort of inner decision, because he lifted his eyes once again and spoke to the two angry people who now sat next to him.

"You see, the reason why I'm saying this is because both of you are my friends. I like you, respect you – heck, I love both of you like a seventh brother and a second sister. So it's not that I don't want to see either of you ever again, or that I want to cut off all ties with you. It's just that last night put things into perspective for me. While this new ability of yours, Harry, only makes it more clear."

Ron drew a hand in to touch his chest. "Like this Game thing says, Harry, I get jealous. A lot. And I don't know if I will ever stop feeling that way either, even if you are my best mate." Ron fidgeted for a moment before continuing. "But that's only part of it. What last night made clear to me is that things are only going to get crazier. You've already fought a Basilisk, a possessed teacher, and now a horde of Dementors. That's the stuff of legend, mate! And it's an honour just to know that you call me your friend."

The redhead bit his lip. "But that'll never be me. I could never go down to a chamber to fight a Basilisk and win. If I'd gone with you last year, you'd either have had to save me or pick my cold corpse off of the ground. And if I'd just been more trusting of Hermione or Crookshanks last night – or months ago when the cat had first started going after him – well, I probably wouldn't have had my leg broken. And Pettigrew probably wouldn't have escaped."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Ron shut him down. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know that it's not really my fault. But still, mate, I made the situation worse when I could have made it a lot better instead. Which, in a nutshell, sums up everything about me."

Ron pointed at his two friends as he continued. "You, Hermione, are the brains. You figure things out before anyone else does and you help the rest of us see sense. While you, Harry, do what no one else can do. You take out the bad guys before they get the chance to hurt people." He then pointed to himself with a wan expression. "While I just come along and generally get in your way as I muck things up."

Harry just shook his head as if to say no. Hermione reached out her hands to closely grip both of Ron's, tears streaming down her face as she did.

The tall boy smiled sadly. "There was a lesson that I learned two years ago during the game of Wizard's Chess setup by Professor McGonagall. An important one, and one that I had nearly forgotten. You, the both of you, are too important to lose. This world, the world that I live in, and that my family lives in, needs both of you working together to stop Voldemort and beat whatever other evil things are out there. So while you can always count on my support whenever you needed it, I think that the best way I can help is to support the two of you, and whomever else joins you, from the sidelines."

Ron flashed a wry smile. "Because while I would sacrifice my life for either one of you in a heartbeat, I would really,_ really_ prefer to stay alive for just a little bit longer. And I don't know if that would be the case if I were to continue lagging at the rear like I am now."

Then, as if he was spent, Ron sagged back into his pillows. The boy placed a hand over his eyes and made a quick wiping motion. When he opened them, his eyes looked red and tired.

Rocked by his friend's words, Harry and Hermione looked at each other in stunned silence. Neither of them had had any idea that Ron felt like this. That Ron, the other member of their close-knit trio, thought that he was not worthy to stand at their side.

A surge of powerful, almost blinding anger ripped through Harry's chest.

How _dare_ Ron think that! Was it not Harry's choice as to whom Harry wanted by his side? Did Harry not have any say as to whether or not he felt that someone else was either worthy or unworthy of being his friend? Nowhere in his little speech had Ron mentioned anything about it.

The boy was being a selfish prat and this time he had gone too far. Without thinking over his words, Harry opened his mouth to let the other boy know it.

Then Hermione reached over to touch Harry's hand. Her gentle touch doused the surge of anger within him like a bucket of cold ice poured over a small blaze. Harry looked at her sorrowful eyes and trembling half-smile. She was clearly urging him to accept Ron's words.

But why? Wasn't she also hurt by his words? Didn't she also want to keep him around, to stay friends with the red-headed boy?

Confused by Hermione's tearful face, Harry turned to look at Ron. The other boy was looking at Harry with a mixture of fear and acceptance on his face. Hoping that Harry would accept his words.

Hoping that Harry would understand his friend well enough to know that Ron really was trying his hardest to do what he thought was right.

Harry swallowed his remaining anger and covered his eyes with his arm. "Dammit Ron. What the _blood__y_ hell is wrong with you?" Harry bit out softly. "Don't I get any say in this? Or Hermione? What about us? What if we think that you _are _worthy of being our friend? And that you _should_ stand beside us as we face whatever else comes our way? What about that?"

Ron's calm voice shattered whatever sense of calm Harry had managed to gather thanks to Hermione's hand. "Then I think that you are the best mates any guy could ask for, Harry. But my decision stands."

The floodgates opened at Ron's words. Harry buried his face in his hands and just let the tears flow. He felt Hermione let go of his hand, only to feel her wrap him within the most gentle hug she had ever given him. Then Ron joined in on Harry's other side, and Harry wrapped his arms around both of them while he continued to cry.

Several long minutes later and the tears had begun to dry. Harry still felt like crap on the inside, and a large part of him felt like punching something as hard as he could. But when he looked at Ron's own tear laden face, Harry knew that he could not refute the other boys words.

According to the Game, Ron's stats were weak. And while Harry had not had a chance to compare them to the stats of the other students he had cast observe on while walking, Ron's stats lagged far behind those of Harry and Hermione. The redhead also had a trait that could hurt them all within the future, one which Harry currently had no idea how to remove or to fix. Let alone how long it would actually take.

But more importantly, Ron's examples were spot on. If Ron had been with Harry when he had faced Riddle's shade last year, then Ron would either have been killed by Riddle or by the Basilisk the shade had controlled. It was a miracle that both Harry and Ginny had made it out alive; adding in anyone else short of Dumbledore to the mix probably would have gotten the other person killed. Getting separated by Lockhart's malfunctioning spell was probably the best thing that could have happened.

As for last night… well, Ron was right yet again. If he had been less antagonistic towards Hermione and Crookshanks that night, or even throughout the year, then the situation with Peter Pettigrew could have gone differently. Very differently. Harry refused to blame Ron for the traitor's escape – if anyone was to blame then it would be Snape for getting in their way at the _worst_ possible moment – but Harry could see Ron's point.

So as much as it hurt to acknowledge it, and as much as Harry wished that it were otherwise, Ron was right. The acknowledgement of this truth hurt him physically and stuck in Harry's throat – Hermione's too by the way her body shook – but there was nothing Harry could say to rebut Ron. And if Hermione's silence, so rare much of the time, was any indication, then she seemed to feel the same way as well.

The pain of accepting Ron's words sunk into Harry's breast like a knife carving its way into a hunk of meat. They could – and they _would_ – stay friends. That much Harry knew for sure.

But Ron was right in that they did need to branch out and make connections with other people. Harry would keep getting into dangerous situations for the rest of his life, and Hermione had already made it clear that she was going to be right there with him. While they made a great duo, past events had shown Harry that another pair of hands was often needed when things really started to turn bad.

Yet asking any more of Ron when the other boy was not able to give it would be _wrong_. If he did so, then Harry would be be a bad friend. Something which Harry would never allow himself to become.

The three of them stayed in their group hug for a good while longer. And when they finally separated both Harry and Hermione each gave Ron a fierce nod of acceptance, promising with their eyes and their words that they would still remain friends even if their friendship's form would need to change. Harry pushed aside the ding notifying him about the successful completion of Ron's quest, finding the Game's notification to be rather redundant at this point.

They then spent the next hour brainstorming with each other after Harry told them about the Horcrux, and about how the Game had given him a quest to keep Lupin in the school. None of them really knew what they might be looking for, but after a quick suggestion Harry tried using Observe on the items around them instead of people.

**Ding!**

**Mass Produced Plain Linen Sheets**

**Comfort Level: 57**

**No Other Bonuses Given**

**Ding!**

**Tasty Blueberry Muffin**

**Elf-Made**

**Restores Depleted Energy and Is a Healthy Part of Any Breakfast**

**Ding!**

**Hermione's Wand**

**10 ¾" Long Vine Wood with a Dragon Heartstring Core**

**Soul Bonded to Hermione Jean Granger**

**Gives a + 50% Ability to Learn Spells When Used by Hermione to Learn New Spells**

**Crafted by Master Wandmaker Garrick Ollivander 200 Years Ago**

With that little experiment completed they had confirmed that Harry was able to determine if an item was normal, magical, and what – if any – special properties that it might possess. This then allowed them to come up with a game plan. And despite his initial protestations, Harry and Hermione convinced Ron to help them for this one final time.

Harry left the Hospital with Hermione soon after. The boy squared his shoulders and marched with determination.

Things would change after the school year ended. But that time was not yet upon them. No, now was the time to help another friend keep his job and to stop a new wrong from happening.

If this was going to be the last adventure that the Golden Trio were together as equal partners, then it was going to be a success! Sirius' situation might be beyond Harry's ability to affect, but Remus' was not.

This was a chance to finally hit Voldemort where it hurt. They would find this hidden Horcrux. And then they were going to destroy it.

**A/N:** As you can see by Ron's stats not every character in this fic will be overpowered for their age. While Ron isn't my favourite character in HP – not by a long shot – I don't hate him either. Ron served a good plot purpose as the prototypical 'idiot' boy in canon. He could be selfish, immature, jealous, and petty, and throughout the books showcased all of the_ many_ flaws which are often attributed to young boys. This was especially needed, in my opinion, considering Harry's incredibly unselfish nature in canon.

Ron will be mostly phased out over the next few chapters. I have a few plans for him, but he will be taking a backseat to many other characters in this story. I also wanted to do his removal in a way that I have not seen done before. I wanted to do it in a positive manner; because while I want Harry and Hermione to meet new people and grow, I did not want it to be done after a Ron betrayal. Or some other similar dark trope.

Next chapter I get to stretch my legs into other characters a bit. Because while Harry will be the main perspective for the reader, he will not be the only one. I intend to throw in many different viewpoints as the fic continues.

Updated on 12/17/2019

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	8. Chapter 8: The Return of Dobby

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Eight: The Return of Dobby**

Five days later found Harry, Hermione, and a rejuvenated Ron sprawled out on the couches in the Gryffindor common room.

Their grand quest to find and locate the hidden Horcrux, and therefore save Professor Lupin from being forced out of his job by the curse, was turning up nothing. The three of them had visited nearly every single room they could find in the Castle with few exceptions. And while they had been able to cross out Dumbledore's office as they were pretty certain the Headmaster would have noticed an item of Dark magic in the room, the discussion about how – or even _if _– they should go about trying to go some of the other places was what had led to the current argument.

"For the last time Ron, I am _not_ going to go into Snape's living area. Horcrux or no Horcrux, if I did that then _I_ would be the one stewed alive in a potion pot; not you." Harry grumbled. "Nor will I be going into Flitwick's, or Sprouts, or any other teacher's private area. With an emphasis on avoiding McGonagall's quarters. Anything that Snape would do to me would be a mercy compared to what she could come up with."

"Aw, c'mon Harry, we've checked just about everywhere else," Ron whined from his place on the common room floor. "We've been to every abandoned classroom, searched every hidden passageway, crawled into every tiny alcove, combed the Trophy Room, poked all over the Great Hall, got ourselves chased out of a testing area, and even had Hagrid help us tear apart his hut. We've been everywhere else, mate; there is _no__where else_ left to search!"

Harry closed his eyes as he let out a groan. Ron may have been whining, but there was a ring of truth to what he said. They really had checked out everywhere they could think to look, even going so far as to use the Marauder's Map to see if there were any hidden rooms they had never before explored.

There had actually been quite a few. But while it was good to know about them, each and every one been filled with massive amounts of dust. And even if Hogwarts was a magical castle, filled with magical students and magical creatures, its dust was pretty plain. Something which Harry could have stated even _without_ his magical gaming ability to analyze whatever he cast Observe on.

Hoping that Hermione might have a solution to their dilemna, Harry turned to look at his other friend.

While Harry had been searching under every metaphorical bush he could think of with Ron, Hermione had been working hard on trying to figure out the limits of his gaming ability. Every time Harry made his trips he kept the stats pages open for the people he encountered. Then, when he and Ron came back for breaks, Hermione would virtually pounce on Harry and have him share every new bit of information he had acquired. In such exacting detail that Harry had more than once needed to tell her to calm down and leave him alone for a moment just so he could think.

But, to neither Harry nor Ron's surprise, Hermione's obsessive need to research and analyze had already borne fruit.

First was that while the overall levels and number of traits of people seemed to be fairly even between the different Houses, the levels changed dramatically between years. And considering that they were at the end of the year, when everyone had presumably had a chance to do what the system called 'leveling up,' Hermione had created a general range for the average student.

**1st Years: Level 10-15**

**2nd Years: Level 15-20**

**3rd Years: Level 20-25**

**4th Years: Level 25-40**

**5th Years: Level 40-55**

**6th Years: Level 55-70**

**7th Years: Level 70-100**

Seeing that put into writing by Hermione had finally helped Harry get a handle on his own stats and brought up the second thing that they had discovered. According to Hermione both she and Harry were something called statistical outliers. A term which had confused him and caused Ron to stare at her dumbly before the bushy-maned girl had sighed and then gone over it again in plain English.

It turned out to be a fancy way of saying that both Harry and Hermione were different than everyone else. A fact which Ron took great pleasure in reminding them both that he had already mentioned it to them back when he was in the hospital. That had caused Hermione to chuck a pillow in Ron's general direction and promptly derailed their work for the next few minutes.

When the group had gotten back on track and poured through the notes, several other names began to pop up. Every year seemed to have at least two or three people who, like Harry and Hermione, seemed to break away from their peers. Gryffindor's Chaser trio were some of them, a fact which had pleasantly surprised Harry as he had always liked the kind older girls.

However, only one person had even come close to being as far apart from their year mates as Harry and Hermione were from their own. That person's name had come as little surprise considering his growing fame; the boy's name was often bandied about whenever someone talked about the most talented students at Hogwarts, and his victory over Harry in their Quidditch match had only served to further burnish his school wide fame.

**Cedric Diggory**

_**Cedric is the Golden Boy of Hufflepuff. He is nice, athletically talented, academically successful, and popular with every House in Hogwarts. Yes, even Slytherin. Girls love him, boys want to date him, and everyone agrees that there is a sparkle in the air every time the light strikes him. Cedric himself embodies the traits upon which House Hufflepuff was founded. You will not find a kinder, more loyal or humble student in the entire school with the possible exception of Harry Potter.**_

**Age: 17**

**Golden Boy**

**Hufflepuff Prefect**

**Heir Apparent to House Diggory**

**Level 76**

**Stats:**

**STR: 68**

**DEX: 70**

**CON: 62**

**INT: 90**

**WIS: 101**

**CHA: 160**

**Traits:**

**Humble**

**Loyal**

**True Friend**

**Kind Heart**

**Charms Adept**

**Blue Blood**

**Dedicated**

**Gullible**

**School Quidditch Player**

His description might be somewhat… odd, but the power packed into Cedric Diggory's robust frame was not just physical. The older boy had three titles, eight traits, and stats which rivaled those of Harry and Hermione. He was also more balanced in his attribute distribute than either of the two Gryffindor's, a fact which had caused Hermione to waste nearly an hour on hypothesizing as to why.

Meanwhile, seeing Cedric being at least a whole six levels higher than the other normal sixth years – and forty-six levels higher than his own – made Harry feel better about losing out on catching the Snitch during their match. Between the Dementors, the weather, the boy being older,and being massively higher in level, the loss no longer felt quite so bad.

Losing to a skilled and talented opponent was one thing. Losing to someone like Malfoy would have been something else entirely. Harry had never seen the puffed up ponce as anything other than an annoyance. He was itching to try out his Observe ability on the moronic blond, but the boy had been keeping a low profile ever since the Weasley's prank had gone off.

Harry truly doubted that the ponce would have much going for him. Not if what they had learned about the average student held true.

Because the more people Harry scanned, the more he found that the vast majority of Hogwarts students had little to differentiate them from one another. Most had no titles, and they generally only three to five traits with the three most common traits being Normal Citizen, Quidditch Fan, and whatever their blood status was. None of which seemed to give any special bonuses either.

By that standard Ron may have been selling himself a little short in his speech. The redhead was a level under the other 'highest' members of the 3rd year Harry and Hermione had seen – a distinction which belonged to the trio of Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones, and Michael Corner at level 25– but the boy was still better than many. Seamus and Dean only made it to level 22, while Lavender and Pavarti were lagging behind at level 21.

Which felt somewhat odd to Harry as Pavarti's twin sister, Padma, was at level 24. But he guessed that it just went to show how even twins could be different depending on how they applied themselves. It was a theory both he and Hermione found themselves itching to confirm by catching Fred and George with Observe. But every time Harry had tried one of them had spotted him; and never afraid of butting their noses into something they had immediately called him out on it too!

Unwilling as Harry was to expand knowledge of his new ability beyond that of his two closest friends, he had been forced to come up with several weak excuses. None of which the twins had bought. Harry's poor excuses only seemed to cause them to grow suspicious. To the point that Harry had been forced to use the Marauder's map to avoid them on more than one occasion during the search for the Horcrux.

So while the group had failed to make much progress on the Horcrux Hunt, as Ron had taken to calling it, Harry still felt rather cheerful. He was learning more about his ability every day, and was actually able to use it to get a handle on how he compared to the rest of his classmates.

He had even received some good news about Sirius.

After Harry and Hermione had left Ron at the Hospital Wing, the two of them had headed straight for Professor Dumbledore's office to talk to him about the Horcrux issue. They had wanted to share more about what they had learned and to ask him for some advice on the Horcrux issue. Only to come face to face with a mildly irate Professor McGonagall who had been waiting at the foot of the stairs as though expecting to see them.

"I don't know how Albus manages to do it, but the old coot was right yet again," the austere lady had muttered under her breath. With her gorgeous jet black hair gathered into a tight bun atop her head and dressed in her dark head of house robes, the older woman had cut her usual picture; beautiful, yet fearsome. An image which had only been furthered when she muttered several choice phrases under breath while glaring at the Gargoyle which guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

Eventually the professor switched her eyes from the inanimate stone carving to the two students in front of her, giving each of them a level stare in turn. Her left eye twitched as she began to speak in a cold tone of voice."The Headmaster anticipated that you would need to speak with him about some matters – which, _for the record_, he did not inform me about _despite_ my being your Head of House – but he asked that you be informed that he was called away by the Director of Magical Law Enforcement for an important consultation early this morning."

The message delivered, a clearly annoyed McGonagall had then looked straight at Harry. He had gulped, wishing that the Headmaster had sent the message by post instead of irritating the woman in front of him. The elderly wizard had probably wished to be discreet, but the man had _clearly_ failed to anticipate the repercussions which would result from using Minerva McGonagall as a messenger girl.

"Now, the Headmaster said that you would understand what he meant and has asked that I send him any message the two of you have for him in return." The formidable witch, professor, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts then raised one slim eyebrow at the students in front of her. "And while I am willing to do so for two of my most favourite students – a fact which you are not allowed to talk about on pain of censure and detention – understand that this will _not_ be a common occurrence. I am _not_ your messenger girl and I will not be treated as such."

The older woman's fierce gaze had suddenly burned as she spoke, and Harry had felt as though it could pin them to the corridor's stone walls should the woman so desire. "Am I understood?"

Harry and Hermione had frantically nodded yes to the professor's words, almost babbling nonsensically in order to make sure that their Head of House did not direct her apparent anger towards either of them. Thankfully the professor had taken the frantic nodding for the positive response that it was and her gaze softened back to its usual level of sharp intensity. "Excellent. Now then, do either of you have a message to pass along to the Headmaster?"

That had been a tricky question to answer. Because while they _did_ have information to pass along, and they really did trust Professor McGonagall, they were not sure if they should bring her in on Harry's new secret. So Hermione and Harry had stepped away to argue over what they should tell the professor.

Hermione had been in favor of bringing her in on Harry's secret while he had remained unconvinced. The two had debated on the subject, eventually agreeing to table it until the beginning of next term after it became clear that neither of them were shifting.

After a few minutes of heated whispering, Harry and Hermione had eventually settled for writing out a simple message on a piece of paper and asking that Professor McGonagall pass it along as soon as possible.

The beautiful woman had nodded her head in assent, the annoyance finally beginning to fade from her stern features. Then with a swift 'good day' the stern professor had walked down the hallway which lead to her personal quarters. Leaving a vastly relieved Harry and Hermione alone as they tried to figure out what to do next.

They had eventually agreed to wait for Ron to leave his hospital bed before moving forward with any search and had gone back to the Gryffindor common room. That had led to them writing down the stats of everyone Harry had used Observe on their way to and from the hospital, placing it into two journals. One of which would be kept by Hermione, and the other of which would be given to Dumbledore prior to their departure.

But now it was five days later. Five days of frustrated searching and time spent talking about numbers and levels and what might mean. To make matters worse they had spotted Remus packing his things up the day before, which meant that they were running out of time.

Something needed to change, but none of the three young friends had any idea as to what that might be.

Ron's stomach gave a loud grumble. And, as if magically induced, Harry's stomach chose to chime in with its own grumble as well. Reminding the green-eyed boy that he and Ron had skipped lunch in favor of searching the Trophy Room and seeing if they could sneak past Filch to search his office again as well.

Giving a frustrated sigh, Harry stood up and gestured for Ron to follow him. "Let's go and visit the kitchens for something to eat, Ron," Harry said quietly. "It's a long time until supper and neither of us will be able to think clearly if we don't get some food in us."

Ron mumbled what sounded like an assent and stood up with a groan. The taller boy's joints cracked and popped as he moved around slowly, but he did not give voice to any of his usual complaints. Which most likely meant that the gangly redhead was hungrier than he had let on.

From her place at the table Hermione gave both of them a mild stink eye. The girl was taking an increasingly hard line stance towards how the wizarding world treated House Elves, becoming hostile to anything which smacked of intolerance or ignorance.

"I wish that Fred and George hadn't mentioned the trick of getting into the kitchen to the both of you," she said archly before turning her attention back to the handwritten book of Game notes in front of her. "But if you must be gone, then please make sure to speak to thank the House Elves for all of their hard work around here. The poor dears don't receive nearly enough thanks as it is."

"Aye aye, Professor Granger," Harry called out playfully as he began to walk away. "Would you like for us to bring you back anything to snack on?"

"No, but thank you for asking Harry. Just try not to take too long; I have a few more theories that I want to run by you when you return and can double check with the Help feature."

Harry nodded his head and pushed the portrait of the Fat Lady open. He and Ron made their way past a few giggling fifth year girls who were directly in their path. Ron complained under his breadth at the interruption, but given that the boy was no doubt starving it was rather lukewarm of the boy to complain so little.

Once they reached the secret passageway which lay beyond the gaggle of girls it was just a quick jaunt through a few more hallways before they were soon standing in front of a very special painting.

Ron's eyes gleamed as he stared at it, and Harry heard both of their stomachs give a second rumble in anticipation. Harry tickled the pear in the painting like Fred and George had shown him and watched as a hidden passageway appeared. The hidden passageway was the only physical way to enter the kitchens and was a closely guarded secret. Few people knew of it. Even fewer knew how to use it.

So when a tiny gray missile burst out from its confines and hit Harry in the chest, it was understandable why Harry had no idea what had just happened. This conclusion was short-lived, however, as the gray missile soon began to speak from its place on top of Harry's body.

"Harry Potter! It's you, it's really you! Yous has come to visits your Dobby on his first week of working here. Oh thanks you sir, thanks you! Dobby always _knew_ that you were the greatest and most kind of wizards." The little gray form sobbed as it blew its over-sized nose on the fabric of Harry's black school robes. "Oh, and Dobby has thanked his great wizard friend by making a mess of his shirt. Bad Dobby, bad! Please mister Harry Potter sir, don't move; let your Dobby clean it for you before yous tries to stands up."

It took a moment for the words to enter Harry's oxygen starved brain. But when he did, he could feel a wide smile crossed over his features. The excitable bundle of energy Harry remembered from his previous year had not seem to have changed at all. Dobby was still moving faster than his brain could match. All while bruising Harry's body along the way.

Harry managed to sit up with a groan while the energetic House Elf cleaned the dirtied robes with a wave of its gnarled hands. Gesturing between Dobby and Ron, Harry decided to make some introductions. "Dobby, this is my friend Ron Weasley. He's one of the nicest wizards you can ever meet, just like me. And Ron, this is Dobby, the House Elf that I talked about meeting last year, and who is also my friend."

Dobby's already large eyes went wide, until they looked big enough to fit a roast duck on. "I-I I'm a friend of the great Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Of course you are. That's why I said it."

"Waaaaaah! Mister Harry Potter really does have the biggest and bestest heart of any wizard!" Dobby began to sob once again and wipe his nose all over Harry's freshly cleaned robe. Expecting it this time around, Harry just gave the elf a pat on the back before gently pushing Dobby away.

"Blimey, Harry, you weren't kidding!" Ron exclaimed. "He really _does _seem to like you an awful lot."

"Oh yes! Dobby certainly does like mister Harry Potter sir, oh yes he does, yes he does indeed." Dobby bobbed his too large head up and down as he spoke. "And it is a pleasure for Dobby to meet you too, Harry Potter's Wheezy. A pleasure, a wonderful pleasure!"

Leaving Ron with his mouth gaping at the endless stream of positive energy streaming from the excitable House Elf, Harry pushed himself back to his feet. He took advantage of Dobby's distraction to dust himself off and regain his breath. Then he looked at the elf with a warm smile and a happy heart.

The eccentric House Elf looked markedly better than when Harry had last seen him. Gone were the bandage wrapped fingers and emaciated figure. Gone was the haunted look in his eyes. Replacing them were what looked like healthy skin and more meat on his small bones, and a gaze which burst with joyous energy.

The tiny fellow had also ditched the filthy pillowcase and wore what looked to be a three piece suit from three different suits; the slacks were green, the shirt canary yellow, and the jacket a dark blue with red polka dots all over. It certainly caused him to cut quite the bizarre figure, but it was one which only increased Harry's feeling of happiness. Because the look of joy in the small elf's eyes could not be faked, and was worth any amount of odd dress.

"So, Dobby," Harry said with a laugh, cutting off the bouncing elf from continuously shaking Ron's hand, "why didn't you tell me that you were working here at Hogwarts now? I would've come down to see you right way."

Dobby hesitated for a moment, his large eyes widening in shock. It caused Harry to frown as an ugly possibility reared itself in his mind. "You _are_ still free, right Dobby? I mean, you weren't forced by some other wizard to be their servant again, right?"

The elf waved his hands frantically as he responded. "Oh no, no, no! Dobby is certainly still free. He is being paids for his work now by the Dumbledore, and is even getting time off now, that he is." He turned his gaze to the floor, his face downcast. "But now Dobby feels bads; he had hoped to surprise you next year, after he had been assigned to your dormitory so that he could serve you properly like a real House Elf should."

For a moment his fingers twitched, as though itching to find a nearby drawer to slam on them. But, with what looked to be a great deal of self-control, Dobby managed to resist the urge to hurt himself and turned his gaze up to face Harry once again. "But now that yous is here, Dobby is very happys! Yes yes, very happys indeed."

Harry's smile returned upon hearing his friend's good news. "That's great to hear Dobby. And there's no need to worry about next year; seeing you now is better than anything else." He reached out to pat the small guy on his shoulder. A happy tear formed on Dobby's face at the gesture. "I'm really proud that you've been able to do so much, Dobby. It's a real accomplishment!"

As Dobby once again bowled Harry over and sobbed onto Harry's chest for the third time about how great and kind Harry was, Harry mused on how he really _was_ proud of the little guy. Harry had neither seen nor heard from Dobby ever since that day when Harry had tricked Lucius into freeing the House Elf by accident. Even with all that had happened to Harry this past year, he had still worried about the House Elf every now and again, hoping that the kindhearted soul would be able to find the life that he deserved.

Eventually Harry was able to pull Dobby off of him and stand both of them up. The House Elf pulled out a lime green sock from somewhere and began blow his nose into it while speaking. "Yes! Dobby will remember your great kindness, Harry Potter. I's bes forever in your debt."

Feeling his cheeks beginning to heat up under the continued praise, Harry tried to change the subject back to his initial purpose for coming to the kitchen. "Then what do you say about helping Ron and me get some food to take back up to the Gryffindor dorms? We missed out on breakfast and lunch looking for something and could really use something to tide us over until supper."

The small elf's eyes widened at Harry's words. "Yous is asking Dobby for help already? Just after meeting him again?"

Harry faltered. "Um… yes?" He then held up his hands in a placating gesture. "But if you don't want to, then that's okay! I don't want to be a bother since you just started working here, and…"

"No! No, mister Harry Potter is not being a bother, not at all!" Dobby's shout grabbed the attention of all the other elves who were busy working. All of whom looked to be rather busy preparing what was no doubt the evening meal. "This bes no worries, as they say. So mister Harry Potter and his Wheezy will be staying right here while I fix you food to eat and help you mind what yous is missing."

In a whirl of energy and magic the tiny House Elf then dashed into the midst of his fellows. The small body grabbed bits and pieces from whatever they were cooking as he packed two plates to the brim for Harry and Ron.

Standing beside Harry, a poleaxed Ron finally seemed to have rediscovered his voice. He had an odd look in his eyes as he followed the elf's diminutive form. "You know Harry," Ron finally said, "you really do have some of the weirdest friends. I mean, between Dobby, Hagrid, Oliver Wood, Moaning Myrtle, the twins and Hermione, you're surrounded by a whole bunch of absolute loonies."

Harry shot his friend a sideways glance. The other boy's tone bothered him. Especially since several of those named were also friends with Ron. "I hope that you're including yourself in that bunch too, Mr. 'I can eat from my plate without any hands.'"

This comment started a long, juvenile argument which lasted throughout much of their meal. Dobby had insisted that they eat in the kitchen instead of returning to the Gryffindor Tower so that they could catch up with one another.

Harry, being the polite person he was, could not find it in him to say no.

But after Harry was feeling well and truly stuffed, and the last bit of sauce had been wiped from Ron's place with a piece of freshly baked bread, it was time for them to get going. The Horcrux would not find itself, and they had already looked in the kitchen days ago, somehow missing the excitable House Elf when they did.

"Well, Dobby, it was great to see you again," Harry said as he stood up from the makeshift table Dobby had fashioned for them. "Please stop by the Tower to say hi whenever you get a chance. I'll be leaving for the summer holidays soon, but I'd love to see you before I go."

"Of course mister Harry Potter sir! Dobby will do so before you leave, and will do so all of next year too whenever Dobby has the time." The House Elf nodded his head enthusiastically as he spoke. His wizened features were scrunched up into an expression of happiness which Harry had once worried that he would never see.

Then, as though remembering something, Dobby scratched his head and gestured for them to stay. "But before you goes, mister Harry Potter, Dobby might be able to help yous one more time. Dobby heard yous and yours Wheezy mention that you were looking for something, but that yous could not find it. Is that true?"

Harry nodded his head while Ron gave a burp. "Yep, that's right. We'll probably be looking for it more tonight as well. Could you spare any help for us?"

Dobby's eyes turned downcast. "Unfortunately, Dobby is still learning about the things at Hogwarts and cannot leave without one of his seniors. But," the House Elf's eyes turned hopeful, "Dobby knows the perfect place that yous can look, sir! It's someplace which most wizards don't seem to go, and Dobby heard tell of it from the other house-elves when he first came to Hogwarts last year."

A place which most wizards did not know? Harry looked at Ron, but the taller boy just shrugged his shoulders in confusion. So Harry turned back to Dobby and gestured for him to continue.

The little elf's large eyes glowed in the kitchen's firelight as he leaned in close. "Have yous ever heard of the Come and Go Room? Or the Room of Requirement?"

* * *

Harry and Ron stood in the corridor, shock written all over their features. To the point where Harry would later think that even seeing Draco Malfoy dressed in pink robes with curly long hair could not have torn his gaze away.

The reason for Harry thinking of this specific image due to the joke that Fred and George had played on the entire third year Slytherin class which had caused Malfoy to hide away from the world at large. Through the use of some creative charms, and some other magic which the twins had remained silent about, the two pranksters had temporarily switched the looks, genders, and outfits of the entire third through fifth year Slytherin classes. It had been the topic of conversation for the past three days, and was all that most everyone – even Harry – could talk about at meals.

But not even the brilliance of the twins, Malfoy's suffering, or the thought of the quest Harry needed to complete could pull him out of his current level of shock.

**Ding!**

**You Have Discovered a Hidden Dimension**

**Beyond this Door Lies Treasure and Dangers Untold**

**Go Forth At Your Own Risk**

**Ding!**

**Due to An Unanticipated Discovery The Game of Death is Currently Updating**

**Interfacing with the Dimensional Eddies to Update the Gamer's Map With the New Information**

**Update Will Conclude Once All Information Has Been Downloaded and Assimilated by the Game of Death**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Explore 'The Room of Requirement'**

**Few Have Ever Encountered It And None have Mapped It**

**Discover the Origins of the Room, Master Its Secrets, And Solve Its Enduring Mystery**

**Reward:**

**The Explorer Trait**

**+50% Ability to Learn Any Space/Time Magic**

**50 Free Levels**

**Do you Accept?**

**Yes or No**

It appeared that this room, which had appeared out of thin air, was strange enough that even the Game of Death was shocked by it. Harry had yet to see it say anything about 'updating' before and was unsure as to what it meant. But the part where it was surprised and wanted him to map it was pretty clear.

Which also brought up another point of confusion for Harry. The Game had a map? That was news to him. He had not really seen any mention of said map prior to this. But that thought was shoved aside while Harry distractedly pressed his finger down on the 'yes' option on the screen in front of him. Harry had never seen the Game give out quest rewards like that before so clicking yes did not seem to be a terrible idea. Nor did it seem like there was anything immediately dangerous or deadly with what lay before him.

But as he stared at the utterly massive room in front of him Harry began to have second thoughts. Because massive did not even _begin_ to describe it.

From floor to ceiling, the room had to be easily three times the size of the Great Hall. And when Harry looked from his right to his left, he was unable to see an end in either direction. All he could see was endless space which stretched on as far as his eyes could see. If a player squeezed the turns and ignored the upper altitude component of the game, then playing Quidditch in this place was not outside the realm of possibility.

But that would have been impossible due to the contents of the room. For the entire place was _filled_ with stacks upon stacks upon stacks of things.

Some of the stacks were made from broken chairs and couches. Others were composed of massive piles of books or hills of old clothes; some of which looked to have fallen out of favor long before the birth of even Professor Dumbledore!

Still other piles were a complete mishmash of items, containing everything from broken broom handles to a giant armoire filled with liquor. One jumble was more eclectic than the next and none of it looked organized. It was as though all the junk of the world had been brought to this one place and then left untended for generations.

If there was any place in Hogwarts where Voldemort could have hidden a Horcrux, then this was definitely it. Harry would have laid that wager in a heartbeat and dared anyone to take it.

But knowing that fact and being able to do something about it were two _very_ different matters. There was no way that Harry and his friends could comb through everything within this room before Professor Lupin was forced to leave. Not even if they asked Neville, the twins, and everyone else they knew to help as well. Harry was honestly not even sure if they could search through it all even if they spent their entire _li__v__e__s_ on the task.

Thus the jam in which he was stuck. And as he looked Ron in the eyes and saw his friend giving him a blank look in return, Harry knew that they were both equally lost. So they did what they always did in situations like this.

They closed the door, turned around, and without another word proceeded to make their way back to Hermione.

**A/N:** I hope that you all enjoyed seeing Dobby. His positive energy makes him a joy to write and definitely helps me to brighten up the mood of a scene ^-^. This chapter was a transition chapter with a somewhat large information dump so I will do my best to get the next one out asap.

Fun fact which I did not realize until I did some research for this fic. According to both Pottermore and the HP fan wiki, in the HP novels Minerva McGonagall was said to have black hair rather than the grey hair possessed by the inestimable Maggie Smith in the HP movies. And since I am basing this story off of the novels instead of the movies… bingo, presto, a McGonagall with lustrous black hair.

More on that in the next chapter.

In related news, the initial partial draft for chapter 14 (I always try to stay at least 2 chapters ahead in my stories) went somewhere I absolutely did not anticipate. I had intended for it to be on the darker side as it deals with the neglect Harry suffered under the Dursleys and is told from their own perspective… but it ended up going to a place that made me go "oh sh*t – wtf just went through my brain?" I think that I will probably do two things with it: 1) make a watered down version for this story, as I don't really feel like bumping it up to the mature rating just yet, and 2) spin off a **dark** version, where I embrace the initial feeling and run with it. I'll probably place a notification for it in a future chapter, but keep a weather eye out for it in case I forget.

Updated 12/17/2019

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	9. Chapter 9: Remus Lupin Makes a Mistake

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Nine: Remus Lupin Makes a Mistake**

"You are being a fool, Remus! A complete and utter fool."

Remus Lupin paused with his hand halfway into his travel trunk. Packing his things away for his departure and getting ready for the sixth year's exam in the afternoon would have to wait.

For even after so many years spent away from her tutelage, and one year spent as her peer, the reproach in Minerva McGonagall's voice still sent fearful shivers shooting through his spine. The woman's harsh and commanding voice had rung out from behind him, hitting Remus just as hard as it had when he was younger.

It was with a force of will that Remus unfroze his hands and gathered his wits about him. The beautiful woman standing in his office was his Head of House no longer. Nor was Remus the juvenile young man he had once been when he had faced so much of her censure. He had grown in the intervening years and had long since become his own man.

"I would hope that I left much of my foolishness in the past, Minerva," Remus said in a light tone of voice. He had learned over the years that humour could deflect or defuse many a tense situation. "Some of your detentions over the years truly did sink in even if it didn't look like it."

A loud snort of disbelief crushed any hope that his strategy had been successful.

"I'll grant that you and the other Marauders may have been more than a handful when you were younger, but none of you ever made a mistake that was quite _this _foolish back then." The woman's harsh tone only grew more so as she came closer to where Remus stood. "You hold a position of prestige and respect which no werewolf has held in my lifetime; a place where you can teach the next generation of young minds and will allow you to become the greatest Werewolf advocate in half a century. An opportunity which Albus, Filius and I fought hard to obtain for you, I might add. And what are you doing with it? Are you taking advantage of the opportunity to fight for equality and understanding like you said you would at the beginning of the year? Hm?"

Remus sighed as he closed the lid of his trunk. Trying to pack while having an argument with one of the people he most respected in the world was not something he desired. The trunk was not nearly full, but by her tone of voice it would seem that Minerva would not be departing his office any time soon.

The werewolf turned around to face his peer, sitting on the edge of his barren desk. "This has been an incredible opportunity Minerva, one for which I will be forever grateful to have been allowed to obtain," he said softly. "And though I understand what you mean, I believe that I am no longer in a position to accomplish what we had hoped; that if I were to stay in this position for any longer I could cause irreparable damage to the reputation of you, your colleagues, and to this school. None of which I could possibly condone."

Remus let his eyes drift upwards toward the stone ceiling before bringing them back down. "So with that in mind I am taking advantage of this brief period of calm to leave while everyone's dignity is still intact, and to aid a friend whom I should have believed in over twelve years ago."

"Bollocks!" Minerva's snapped reply came as the woman's fiery eyes caught his own. For a moment Remus thought that it was her Animagus form showing so fierce did her eyes appear, but a second glance showed that it was only a trick of the light. "If you really do want to help Sirius, then being a teacher would not stop you. You already did the overhaul of every course level in Defence last year; tweaking them for any changes in curriculum could be done a few weeks before September. That would leave you the entire summer – nearly _three entire months_ – to help Sirius get back on his feet after Albus and Amelia are able to clear his name."

The woman stepped closer as her furious voice rose in pitch. "As for the dignity of everyone involved… what use is dignity, Remus, if it allows terrible ills to go unfought and unpunished?"

Ah. Yes, there was that particular bit of logic which Remus had done his best to ignore. He was not a proud man by nature and had thrown away what little dignity he had ever possessed on the day the Werewolf had attacked him. Dignity was as meaningless to him as pride. But as he did not want to answer that question Remus chose to sidestep around it.

"I am certain that whomever Albus selects as the next professor will be more than competent," he said mildly. "Perhaps they will even be better; I've heard that Moody might be retiring soon, and I'm certain that Albus would jump at the chance to bring him in to serve as an example for young Harry."

"Oh no you don't, Remus. Don't you _dare_ try to dodge my question while framing your decision in such a manner."

The woman's green eyes, framed by her raven hair, were glaring into his own as she stepped close. And though they lacked the brilliant emerald green of Harry and Lily's, softened as they were by a hint of brown, the ferocious gaze of this powerful witch was no less unsettling when fully unleashed. Remus could feel his very skin begin to tingle under the woman's palpable fury.

"You and I both know what you're doing," she said, grinding out the words as though she were chewing on a dragon's scale. "That so called dignity you mentioned earlier is a load of utter bollocks intended to make yourself feel better about your decision. A decision you made because you are scared! Scared and frightened that, since one of your two big secrets got out, it'll cause Dumbledore and the rest of us to become targets for our political opponents. Scared that it might hurt Harry. Scared that, for once in your life, you might have to stand your ground and actually _confron_t those who would pursue you. So instead of doing _any_ of that you're giving us a nice speech and taking the easy way out before things get tougher!"

Remus barely held back a flinch at her harsh words. His mind shook, and without his meaning to a growl rose from deep within his chest as his inner werewolf snapped back at Minerva's challenging words. He may have thrown away his pride and dignity long ago, but her words went too far.

Remus raised a finger trembling with rage and pointed it in her direction. "Don't you dare say that to me Minerva. Don't you _dare_!" He spat out angrily. "I have faced discrimination _my entire life_ for who I am. I have fought, and argued, and worked against those who would slap a label on me and call me subhuman as far back as I can remember. I have served as a spy amongst my own kind in the war, and when Albus called I stood wand to wand against Voldemort's Death Eaters and grieved with you over the bodies of those who never made it back."

He stated into Minerva's eyes as he bit out his next words. "So by what right can you judge me? Hm? What gives you the right to say that I am a coward for running away, and what could _possibly_ make you believe yourself to be correct?"

The older witch stared at him unflinchingly. "Because though I am your friend now, Remus, I was once your teacher. And twelve years ago, when Voldemort died and chaos was erupting all around us, I saw you make this very same decision and live to regret it." Her words and eyes softened as she leaned down to place her palms on the back of a nearby chair. "That decision nearly destroyed you and caused you to be lost to use for more than a decade. I _refuse_ to allow you to make it again without first trying to beat some sense into your damnably thick skull."

This time Remus could not hide his flinch; her words had hit him where it hurt, just as Minerva had known they would. Instead he moved away from the desk where he began to pace. "This is different, Minerva. It's different and you know it. Back then, just after James and Lily died, things were… rough. I had just figured out who I really was, and what I really wanted, and then the only three people I had ever opened myself up to about it were suddenly… gone. Gone for good, I thought. Two lost to death, and the third sent to prison for causing their murder and that of another friend."

Minerva watched him pace, a sad look in her eyes as she followed his every movement. "You're right, Remus. This time _is_ different. The son of James and Lily is here, right in front of you, and he is in need of your help. And unlike back then, when you had just returned to the country from your assignment, you are currently in a position to give him the assistance that he needs."

His old professor then lifted her hands from the chair and sat down in it instead. A wisp of raven hair escaped from the bun holding it back, causing her to blow it out of her eyes with an exasperated huff. "Can you not see it, Remus? That is _why_ I am fighting so hard against this foolish decision of yours. Because this time you have the power to help change the boy's life for the better and in doing so help yourself to heal from wounds you have allowed to fester for over a decade."

Remus ran a hand through his light brown hair. That had not been fair to say. It was completely unfair of her to use Harry as a way to persuade him. So Remus said as much, though he was unable to meet her eyes while speaking.

A fact upon which Minerva pounced. "Is it not?" she pressed. "Barring the grand reasons I gave earlier, is that boy not the true reason why you should stay here? While remaining in your _exact_ position?"

"But what can I offer him? Nothing that someone else could not do better. As a teacher, someone like Moody – who has decades of experience in fighting Dark witches and wizards, and in training people to fight them too – would offer far more to Harry than I ever could."

"Moody has not retired yet, Remus. Besides, if history is any judge of the matter then we could very well end up with someone whose abilities and knowledge of the subject are _far_ worse than your own." Minerva's voice turned wry as she continued to speak. "And Moody, for all of his vast knowledge and experience, is not someone whom I could comfortably see teaching classes composed of children for very long."

Remus gave a bitter laugh at that. She had a point. Moody was brilliant at what he did, a genius even, but the man's brilliance came at a steep price. One victim of this price lay in his atrocious social skills, and it was very likely that his concept of appropriate words and punishments in children's education was miles apart from Minerva's own

"Besides," she said warmly, "I've seen the way you interact with Harry. The two of you have formed a connection. Something which can be very difficult to do with a young child and something which a replacement would be highly unlikely to replicate."

"So I should stay around because Harry and I are fond of one another?" Remus said with a snap. "Not to put too fine a point on it, Minerva, but that is a poor reason to keep around a person whose very existence could erase _decades_ of good work done by you and others."

Minerva waved his words off as she snapped back at him. "Then think of it this way you stubborn fool. The previous two people to hold your position tried to _harm_ the poor lad. One tried to wipe his mind with an _Obliviate_ while the other tried to _kill_ him! How could the knowledge of your lycranthropy _possibly_ be any worse than the murder or mental disfigurement of a child?"

Remus threw his hands up into the air at her words."Yes, yes, I know about all of that. Dumbledore and Harry have told me the stories. I even know about the Basilisk he killed last year with Gryffindor's sword, so you needn't go any further into detail."

Silence fell upon the room. And as the silence continued with no reply from the woman behind him, Remus turned to look at her. When he did he saw a woman whose face had gone completely sheet white. In all the years he had known her, Remus had never seen a look of such horror plastered upon the powerful woman's visage.

"What Basilisk are you…" Minerva's eyes went wide. "Do you mean to say that the… the Basilisk Albus mentioned is buried in Slytherin's Chamber was actually killed by…"

The woman's sheet white face suddenly began to flush. A deep red colour as bright as Lily's hair ran all the way from her cheeks down to the impressive valley between her large breasts. Then the woman leapt into the air from her seat, cursing as fast as she could articulate the words.

"Why that blind, bony ol' knobdobber!" Minerva yelled, her Scottish accent coming to the fore as she continued to rant. "I cannae e'en _believe_ that 'e e'er tried to say that poor Harry wasnae involved in slayin' that creature! 'E told me that the beastie were slain by Lockheart's foolish avalanche! Not that… that Harry… that _Harry_ _of all people_… _ARGH_!"

Remus winced and ceased his own pacing after Minerva forcibly elbowed him aside to take his place. The stunning woman's long black robes swished around her finely turned ankles while her eyes looked fiery enough to spit… well, fire. Something which she might very well be capable of doing, as Sirius and James had once theorized many years ago.

It seemed that Remus had let slip something he should not have. Apparently Dumbledore had not given her the full truth of what had happened down within the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, if the words she was currently using were any sort of indication, the old man had chosen to evade Minerva's questions and tell her only a partial truth. Which meant that Remus had just accidentally inserted himself into the middle of a rather major problem where Dumbledore and Minerva were on opposing sides.

That was _not_ a healthy position in which to stay. Because even though Remus was glad that her anger was momentarily redirected at Dumbledore, there was still a very high chance for it to come roaring back at him. And a swearing Minerva McGonagall in a full highland tizz was not something Remus ever felt like experiencing again.

Getting slammed by it the day after James' bachelor party – _damn_ Sirius for getting the drunken idea to do a muggle prank, of all things, on the woman's house, and then convincing Remus to join in – had been bad enough to last him for an entire lifetime.

Thinking on his feet, his own anger forgotten due to the very real prospect of impending harm from the furious woman pacing in his office, the werewolf moved to his desk and opened the lower right hand drawer. He reached a hand inside and pulled out a long handle of aged scotch from within its depths.

Conjuring two fat glasses, complete with a large sphere of ice, Remus managed to fill the first glass halfway before Minerva grabbed it from his desk and downed the lot of it in one go.

The irate woman then slammed it back down on the table for him to refill, her skin still flushed a burning red. When she spoke again, however, her accent had petered back down to its usual manageable level. Which was a very good sign in Remus' opinion as it meant that his hurried decision was having its intended effect of calming her down.

"Putting aside for the moment how that rotten old… er, the Headmaster… _conveniently_ left out the distressing level of young Harry's involvement in his discussion with me, this new knowledge concerning that incident only serves to better illustrate my point."

Remus cautiously caught her eye as he poured another glass that Minerva immediately downed. "Which was?"

"That between some of his teachers, a Basilisk, and that veritable horde of Dementors forced on us this year by the buffoonish fop who heads our ministry, the boy _needs_ someone like you in his life. Both here, at Hogwarts, _and_ elsewhere."

Minerva downed the next glass Remus poured for her, downed the one he had just poured for himself, and looked at him with eyes too clear to belong to someone who had just downed that much alcohol in so short a time. "Perhaps more, even, than you needed his father and Sirius when you were younger."

Remus winced as her sharp words cut deep. They struck closer to home than any other she had said thus far. Remus truly had needed James and Sirius, as well as Lily and James' parents, in his life. More than he had realized until he had lost them forever.

When phrased like that, after the argument they had just had, there was no longer any room for Remus to hide from the truth.

Feeling a bitter sense of failure rise within his chest, the werewolf poured another glass for each of them before moving away. He looked inside the depths of his glass in the hope that he could find the answer to his problems. But as any drunk on the street could tell him, the glass stayed silent and Remus' quiet hope died unspoken.

He grimaced before taking several sips of whiskey to fortify his courage. Then he sat down in a chair because he was not like Minerva; the strong drink would knock him flat on his back if he tried to emulate her approach and down glass after glass of the stuff.

It was only once his glass was half empty that Remus finally responded to her.

"You're right Minerva," he said with a sigh. "Of course you are right; you generally have been ever since I was a child. By doing this I really _am_ running away from everything. But unlike the first time, back when Harry's parents died and Sirius went to Azkaban, it's not because I _think_ that I would be a danger to him and to others. It's because I _know_ that I'm a danger to him."

"You know that's not true, Remus. With Severus on staff you have more than enough access to-"

Remus held up a hand to cut-off of her impending argument. "You might not be aware, Minerva, but I am not just basing my argument on hypotheticals. This time it's based on experience, as just a few nights ago I transformed while I was right next to him and his two friends. And, fool that I am, I did it when there wasn't so much as a single drop of Wolfbane's potion in my body."

Minerva's face went still at his words. "I had heard from Poppy that there had been an issue, but you don't mean to say that…"

"I do, Minerva. I _attacked_ him that night. I attacked him, and his friends, and I would likely have killed them all if Sirius hadn't nearly died trying to stop me!" Remus held the cold glass in his hands to his temple, trying to assuage the pain he felt with its cool surface. "Now that he's seen the monster which lurks within me, how I get when I lose control, I don't know if I can ever become someone he can trust or admire."

"I wouldn't sell the boy short, Remus." Minerva quietly objected. Her voice carried with it a ring of authoritative certainty. "Nor would I sell either of his friends short either. James and Sirius didn't run away from you when they learned your secret. I don't think that Harry and the others would either."

After a moment to ponder her comment, Remus inclined his head in response. "You may be right about that, but it's a moot point. I swore a vow to his parents that I would help him if anything ever happened to them; from where I sit the best way to uphold that vow, right now in this moment, is to stay as far away from him as is humanly possible."

"But, Remus, don't you see that-"

He cut her off for a second time that night. Which was two more times than he had done in his entire life. "No, Minerva, I do _not!_ You are one of the kindest people I have ever met, someone I trust more than I can put into words, but I have made up my mind. I might be running away again, and I might regret doing so for the rest of my life… but given the unacceptable level of danger that I currently pose to Harry I do not see my decision changing any time soon."

Minerva sighed and leaned back into her chair. "Very well then, Remus. I've said my piece, so I promise that I will respect your decision and shan't mention it ever again. But, before you set your decision in stone, at least do one final thing for me. Do that, and I will even support your choice."

His danger senses tingling, Remus moved his glass to the side of his head so that he could peer at her with one eye open. "And what would that be? If it is to talk with the Headmaster then it would be a waste of everyone's time. I already know that Albus would want me to stay on, and I would rather not argue against both of you in one week."

The beautiful witch gave him a gentle smile over the rim of her own glass, the faint lines at the corners of her eyes crinkling as she did. "Then it is a good thing that such a thing is not my request, Remus. No, the final thing that I want you to do – that you _need_ to do – is to speak with Harry. Speak with him one last time before you turn in your letter of resignation. Do that, and I believe that you can leave here your conscience as clear as can be managed under the circumstances."

The werewolf shifted the glass held in his hand as he considered her proposal.

Speaking to the boy would be hard on Remus. To look into Lily's eyes staring at him from James' face. But if he could do that, and still leave… then chances were that Minerva was right. It would hurt him, but it could help him to heal the wound over time.

It would be the honourable course of action to take. The courageous one. Or in other words, it would be the _Gryffindor_ choice to make.

Remus looked up at Minerva with a sad, quiet smile. _Of course_ she would be the one to suggest that doing so. No one he had ever met aside from Lily better encapsulated what it meant to be in the House of Gryffindor more than the woman who sat in front of him.

Something which was common knowledge was that the Headmaster of Hogwarts must be validated by the Castle in order to fill the post. But something which few knew of, and that Remus had only learned upon becoming a faculty member at the school, was that the same held true for the four Heads of House as well. Each candidate would need to undergo a test set by the Founder whose House they had been nominated to lead. One which would decide how worthy the candidate was and whether the candidate's values were in line with those of the Founder in question.

Remus could think of no one better for the House of the Brave than Minerva McGonagall, the proud Lioness of Hogwarts Castle.

"You win, Minerva," he said with an air of defeat. "I'll do as you ask and talk to Harry about everything before I hand in my paperwork."

Minerva's sad expression lightened as she nodded her head. "That's all I can ask of you Remus. And I believe that it is important for both of your futures – yours _and_ Harry's – to have such a discussion with him."

Remus nodded his head and raised his glass for another sip. Doing as she had suggested would be difficult, but Minerva was correct. Doing so would allow Remus to clear the air between them and hopefully become a more permanent part of the boy's life once Sirius was released.

But, just as the tension from the tough discussion had begun to leave his body, Remus suddenly found himself unable to move. A spell had been cast upon him.

Remus' eyes moved to face the powerful witch seated across from him.

Minerva McGonagall, lauded paragon of the many virtues belonging to the House of Gryffindor, put down her wand with a predatory glint in her eyes. Her expression, which had been filled with sadness and kindness just moments ago, now had a feral tinge to its appearance.

"Well then, now that we have finished with your matter, Remus," Minerva said calmly as she moved to grab the bottle of scotch set next to Remus' glass, "I believe that it would be a good time to revisit an earlier point in our discussion which you quite so inadvertently brought up."

The smile on the woman's lips curved upwards into a predatory grin as she crossed her legs under her robes. "It is time that you tell me what Albus has been concealing from me when it comes to Harry. I want to know everything about his incident with the Basilisk and _anything else_ which Albus may have told you about concerning young Harry's… adventures, shall we say, during his time in this castle."

Minerva raised her glass to her dainty lips, polished it off with a gulp, and then gave Remus another predatory smile as she laid the glass down to refill it. "In return I promise to focus the entirety of my wrath upon the old codger at fault in all of this and leave your name out of it as well. Now speak, Remus, lest I grow angry from a lack of cooperation."

Sometimes Animagi could retain a few… unfortunate traits from their chosen transformation. And while he had possessed a handle on the issues his friends had faced, until this evening Remus had no idea what form Minerva McGonagall's retained traits took. But between the woman's eyes and her bloodthirsty smile, Remus could begin to make a few conjectures.

Let it not be said that Remus Lupin was a stupid man. All it took was another look at Minerva's glittering, golden-green eyes while she stroked the drawn wand in her lap and he began to spill every single thing that he knew.

* * *

"And that was the final thing we saw after we opened the door," Harry concluded. He had just finished telling Hermione everything that he and Ron had seen after they had found the strange room Dobby had guided them towards. "What do you think?"

Hermione had a thoughtful expression on her face she considered the issue. "So, just to make sure that I have everything right, Dobby is back in the castle and was the one who told you about this room, right?"

Harry nodded. "That's correct."

"And when he told you about this room and how to open it, you though about opening some type of lost and found room, correct?

"Right so far."

"And this room, when it appeared, was filled to the brim with a heap of items. Some of which looked to be hundreds of years old?"

"Uh huh."

"Then did you try thinking of a room which contained only the Horcrux itself?"

"Of course I –" Harry stopped mid-sentence. He thought about what he had just been about to say. Then went over it again. And after a little more thinking Harry smacked a hand against his forehead as hard as he could.

Hermione was right. Why had he _not_ thought of doing something like that? It was so simple!

A small giggle caught his attention. Hermione was looking at him with mirth dancing in her eyes as she hid her mouth behind her hand. Harry turned his head to glare at her, but it only caused his best friend to giggle again.

"It's okay Harry," she said with a Cheshire grin. "It's not that brilliant of an idea and it's usually much easier to think through situations like this with the benefit of hindsight. Besides, helping you to put all the pieces of the puzzle together like this is one of the things I'm here for, right?"

Harry grumbled a little at her words and turned his head away so that she could not see his face. Even if that _was_ true, Harry felt that he really should not need to rely on her for nearly everything.

Eventually Harry turned to face her again. And although Hermione had switched back to looking at the pages of stats Harry had provided over the past few days, her soft lips were still curled into an almost feline grin. The sight of it made Harry think of Professor McGonagall for some odd reason. A thought which caused a powerful shiver to go down his spine.

The Transfiguration professor might be gorgeous – only the much younger professors Sinistra and Aurora had a bigger following amongst the male students – but Harry did _not_ want to think about the strict and austere woman in _that_ way.

Although what way _that_ might be, and why it would be okay to think of _Hermione_ of all people in _that_ way, was something Harry refused to acknowledge even within the sanctity of his own mind. It was locked away in a forbidden place, never to be opened or examined in depth.

After all, if Hermione really _could_ read his mind as she seemed to do so often to him, then whatever it was could be exposed. And Harry did not like the thought of someone being able to plunder his every… little… secret…

"Oh, no!" Harry whispered to himself in horror. Thinking of Hermione being able to read minds had caused a far more dreadful possibility to rear its ugly head.

Because if Hermione could read a person's mind, then what was stopping other wizards and witches do from doing so as well? The very thought of someone that did not like Harry, such as Snape or Voldemort, having the ability to peak Harry's mind… well, even the possibility of it happening was enough for a tendril of fear to begin worming its way through Harry's body.

It was an unavoidable feeling when Harry considered his track record with things like magical creatures, rogue bludgers, prophecies, and Dark Lords. Anything magical which had the possibility to go wrong and harm him had inevitably come back to bite Harry in some way, shape or form. A track history which did not bode well for him when considering mind-reading.

After making a mental note to look into the matter at a later date Harry did his best to put all thoughts of mind readers out of his… well, thoughts. Instead, he began to speak again in an attempt to power forward with the conversation. "Anyway, Hermione, I think we should just get going. The sooner we destroy the Horcrux the better."

"Sure thing Harry. I was just thinking that myself. I'll just need a moment to tidy up and then we can be off."

With one of his companions secured Harry turned his head around to locate Ron so their friend could join in on the conclusion to the adventure as well. Three heads were better than two, and despite his words to the contrary Ron had often proven himself to be an asset to the group at the most dire of moments.

Only, when Harry was finally able to spot the other boy it was to find him snoring. Ron had completely passed out in front of the common room's fireplace and looked to be utterly dead to the world. Harry called out his name a few times and got no response. A loud snort ripped from the redhead's mouth when Harry tossed a book to wake him up. But that there was no further sign of any reaction from him, and after five more thrown books failed to get even that level of a response Harry gave it up as a lost cause.

"Never mind," Harry muttered gloomily. He sat down on the couch next to Hermione to help her put things away. "You and I can go on our own, and after we find it we can save Professor Lupin."

"Hey, if you're looking for another person, then can I come long too?"

Harry almost jumped in surprise at the unexpected interjection and looked upwards at where it had come from. Less than one foot away was Ginny Weasley's face poking up over the edge of the couch. The younger girl's soft brown eyes stared inquisitively into Harry's green ones as she awaited an answer to her question.

Harry scratched his head as he thought it over. While he had not particularly tried to hide his conversation with Hermione he should have heard someone approaching them. He decided to put off answering Ginny's question by asking her one of his own.

"So, uh, how long have you…"

"Been here?" Ginny offered with a smile. "Since long before you arrived. Hermione was helping me work out a Potion issue that I got wrong on my end of year exams, and once that was done I started working on some spells one of my older brother's said might come in handy to know."

"Oh." Harry looked at Hermione and saw her nod in confirmation. He also saw her try to hide a small grin at Ginny's words and wondered why. "I see."

In any case, Hermione's affirmative response and seeming acceptance put Harry into a bit of a quandary. The only people who really knew what was going on with the Game of Death were Hermione and Ron. Harry knew that he could trust them, knew how they worked together, and knew how they performed under pressure. But in regards to Ginny, Harry knew next to nothing about her in any of the areas that mattered.

To him she was Ron's little sister. One of the few girls Harry absolutely knew had a crush on him at one point. But given that he had hardly seen her all of this past year, and how she was talking normally to him rather than blushing and stuttering, maybe that was all over and she had gotten over him. In which case they could learn to become friends, just like he was with her brothers.

Harry gave Ron's sleeping form another glance. The boy was down for the count, and with him gone there was an open spot for a new member on his adventures. Maybe doing the quest with Ginny could be a trial of sorts. A way to see if there were others besides Hermione and Ron who could stand with Harry against the things he inevitably seemed to face year in and year out.

Harry considered the matter in full. And after weighing the various pros and cons he decided to go with his gut instinct on the matter. Which was to trust Ginny to accompany him and Hermione and see how things went from there.

"Sure Ginny," Harry said with a nod. "But while it should be safe, I need to warn you that it could also be dangerous. Neither Hermione nor I really know what might happen when we get to where we need to go. Are you okay with that?"

Ginny thought it over. Her pretty face wrinkled in thought as she considered his words. "Are we talking about hundred foot Basilisk dangerous?"

"Merlin's beard, no! It had better not!" Harry exclaimed as he shook his head adamantly. "No. It really shouldn't be _that_ dangerous. I think that, in the worst case scenario, it could maybe be something on the level of a troll. Or possibly a brood of hungry Acromantulas."

It was a wild guess on his part considering that he had no idea what abilities a Horcrux might possess. But it was also a safe place to start when considering all of the things Harry had encountered over the years.

"Then count me in," Ginny said as a dazzling smile broke over her freckled features. "If you and Ron could handle a troll in your first year and escape from Acromantulas in your second, then I don't see why the three of us working together couldn't better that standard."

Harry gave a laugh at her infectious confidence. "Great! Then welcome to the team, Ginny. It's good to have you."

"Thanks, Harry. I look forward to working with you and Hermione."

With that Harry's duo was back to being a trio. It caused a warm feeling to rise within Harry's chest and he sported a grin as wide as his face as he finished helping Hermione pack things away. Then the three of them checked the Marauder's Map – which Ginny had been furious to learn had been kept a secret from her by Fred and George – and made their way out when no one who could trouble them was around.

It was time to save the professor and figure out what else the Game of Death could do.

**A/N:** As I was editing this chapter it started to grow in length. And then it kept growing in length. Which in turn caused the flow to change and grow gnarled and ugly. So I decided to split it in two once again. The second part, the new chapter 10, will be posted online in a two or three days after I flesh out its scenes a little more.

And what's this? A short author's note from me? *gasp*

Updated on 1/23/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	10. Chapter 10: Finding the Horcrux

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter 10: Finding the Horcrux**

Remus Lupin was hungover. He was _really_ hungover, and unlike in the past he could not cure it right away. With only thirty minutes before the first batch of sixth years had been scheduled to take the written portion of their end of year exams – and no sobering or hangover potions on hand thanks to his packing – Remus had been forced to use a charm spell to sober up instead, and using the spell always resulted in some nasty side effects.

The massive headache put him in mind of an old saying he had heard from a different Scot in a pub at the far end of the world. That one one should never get drunk unless they were willing to pay for it the next day.

Well, Remus had not had that long to wait before paying the price. Not even close. Drinking with Minerva in the middle of the day had been a _bad_ idea. A bad, terrible, no good idea from beginning to end.

The werewolf shook his head and growled to himself as he paced along a corridor on the seventh floor. He was not really sure why he was in this particular place, as it was not located on the way to his classroom, but he did need a moment to compose himself and it was as good a place as any. Unfortunately, the silence of the empty corridor caused Remus' thoughts to wander back to Minerva, which made him dwell on his pounding headache, which in turn only made it hurt even more.

Ugh! This was all her fault! Hers and Dumbledore's! He had wanted to quietly slip away without talking to anyone, but Minerva just _had_ to come in and argue with him. And as a result he was hungover, nearly late for an exam, and fuming mad at Dumbledore for putting him into such an awkward position.

The next time he saw the aged wizard, Remus would be having words with the man. Most of Remus' drinking had been done while Minerva had questioned him regarding the concealed information on Harry, and the powerful witch had not been happy to learn the great extent to which she had been kept out of the loop. On this occasion the old wizard's penchant for keeping secrets had come back to bite the old coot and taken Remus as its first victim.

It reminded Remus of how Lily and James had nearly torn the old man a new arsehole shortly after Harry's birth. Remus had never learned why, but it had taken Dumbledore a month of hard effort to work his way back into their good graces and was an episode which Remus had never forgotten.

Feeling even more annoyed, Remus gently rubbed his aching forehead again and cast a silent _T__empus _charm to check the time.

"Bugger!" he hissed upon seeing the result. He had lost track of time, again, and it was now only ten minutes before the exam was set to start.

What made the realization even worse was that Remus' current position was more than ten minutes walking distance away! He would need to sprint at a dead run if he wanted to make it there on time.

Why had he thought it was a good idea to pace in this corridor while thinking about how angry he was over his hangover? Not having an answer to that question aside from temporary insanity, Remus turned away and took off at a run, his dishevelled robes flapping around him as he passed by one of Hogwarts' many broom closets. He noticed it and immediately disregarded it, his lean figure flashing through the hallways as he ran.

The ordinary looking door trembled as the sound of a sibilant hiss echoed through the empty corridor.

* * *

Harry stared suspiciously at the two girls in front of him. One had a flowing mane of brown, bushy hair that bounced in the air as she walked. The other kept her ginger red hair in a short ponytail that draped down her neck, its sleek strands swaying to and fro as she moved. But studying their different hairstyles was not why Harry was looking at the backs of their heads. The reason was because the two girls who were his companions had asked him to stay behind while they moved ahead of him to speak in soft, whispered tones.

Harry suspected that the topic of their discussion had to do with him. Every now and then one of the two girls would giggle, look back at him, giggle again, and then continue talking to the other one in an excited yet hushed tone of voice. When combined with their earlier statement asking him to stay back, even he could put the pieces together and figure out what was going on.

It was a strange situation for him. One in which Harry had never found himself in before, because up until now he had never been in a situation like this; Harry had always had more male friends and acquaintances than he had female ones, a fact which stretched back as far as he could remember. And a part of Harry worried about what they were talking about that could possibly tie into him. Like if Hermione was saying that he had bad morning breath. Or if Ginny was talking about how some manoeuvrer he had pulled in a Quidditch game could have been done better. Or about one of a hundred other things which would make Harry feel self conscious about himself.

As if sensing his thoughts – and only giving greater credence to his mind-reading theory – Hermione turned back and shot Harry a cheerful smile. Harry felt his suspicions deepen and he scowled. A reaction which only seemed to further amuse her.

Eventually the two girls ended their little conversation and dropped back to walk alongside him. When they did, Ginny asked if he could tell her any more details as to what was going on. A topic Harry was more than happy to discuss though he would need to be careful with what he told her.

Anything about the Game was off limits, but Ginny would absolutely need to know about the Horcrux. So with some help from Hermione, Harry explained that he and Hermione had learned that Voldemort may have hidden something in the castle years ago. Some sort of Dark Artefact which had placed a curse on the DADA position, and was the reason why no Defence Teacher was able to last longer than a year.

The two of them fudged over how exactly they had come across the information, with Harry saying that it had to do with a secret they shared with Dumbledore. Which, while technically true seeing as how the Headmaster was aware of the Game of Death, was closer to being a lie than Harry generally preferred.

To Harry's great surprise, however, Ginny seemed to take it in stride. Which, after years of dealing with both Ron's pigheadedness and Ginny's old inability to even look at him, came as a breath of fresh air. Harry mentioned something along those lines to Ginny, curious as to why she was so different.

Ginny gave a grimace and looked down at her feet as she replied. "You're right Harry. I didn't really leave the best first impression with you, and I haven't really done anything to correct it in the year since. But when it comes to accepting crazy things on the basis of just your word, you need to remember my frame of reference. I'm a girl who was possessed all of last year by a shade of You-Know-Who, was forced to open a secret chamber containing a Basilisk, who nearly had her soul devoured by You-Know-Who so that he could resurrect himself, and in the end got saved from all of it by you. In that context, You-Know-Who hiding some object in Hogwarts to mess with the education of the subject best suited to fight him makes perfect sense."

Harry felt his cheeks burn lightly with shame as he watched Ginny's confidence fade before him as she spoke. While he had not forgotten about those events – any of them – Harry had already moved past them ages ago. But Ginny had been a helpless victim throughout all of it and had been one for nearly an entire year. It would make sense that it was harder for her to move on as easily as had Harry.

"It's okay Ginny," Hermione said as she embraced the younger girl, as quick as ever to give someone in pain a hug. "The Diary is gone, and you've already become a lot stronger this year. Just like we talked about in the Library. And you mustn't forget that you aren't alone either. Your family, Harry, and I are all here for you. Always. Right, Harry?"

Able to pick up on that cue – and feeling like it was an uncomfortable reminder of the oblivious trait the Game said he possessed – Harry nodded his head and did his best to give a look of comfort and cheer to the visibly sad red-head. "Hermione's right, Ginny. Whatever one of us gets into the others get into as well. Be it a nest of hungry Acromantula, a Troll in your bathroom, or Snape in a tizzy, you can always count on us to help you out."

Harry had never tried to comfort a sad girl before so he was probably making a mess of things. But leaving Ginny alone when he was the one to make her feel sad in the first place, and not trying to do anything about it, was something that only a stupid twat like Malfoy would do to a person. So Harry kept speaking even though he hardly knew what he was saying.

"You're smart, nice, and pretty, and I know that I would love to get to know you better. Coming out with us today is a good start on become great friends as I've already gotten to know you better than in the entire past two year's we've known each other."

Out of words to say, Harry reached over and gave her shoulder a soft pat. It seemed to help as he saw Ginny's face brighten at the contact. "Now let's get a move on and destroy something else that Voldemort values. Sound good?"

Ginny nodded her head as she pulled away from Hermione's hug. "Yeah. Yeah, you're both right." She swiped tears away from her eyes with one arm as she spoke, her beautiful brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's done and over now. So going and breaking something else that that bastard Riddle wanted kept safe… yeah, that sounds _plenty_ good to me."

The moment over, Ginny seemed to cheer back up. And in no time at all it was if the scene had never happened as the three of them continued walking through the corridors to the seventh floor.

Along the way they encountered a haggard looking Professor Lupin sprinting through the corridors. The young professor whose job they were trying to save had pulled Harry aside for a quick word – a _very_ quick word – before continuing on his way at what looked to be a dead sprint. When questioned by the two girls about it, Harry had shrugged his shoulders and said that the Professor had asked to meet with him the next evening.

* * *

A few minutes later saw the new trio standing in the empty corridor on the seventh floor. Or what should have been empty aside from three students staring at a blank wall, the wall-mounted torches providing light above from above their heads, and the moving painting of Barnabas the Barmy and his seven trolls dancing on the wall behind them.

Yet right in front of them, in place of what should have been the blank stone wall of the corridor, was a small wooden door made from walnut.

To Harry's right, Hermione raised an eyebrow as she looked at it. Her pretty face was bunched in confusion as she touched it with a finger. "Are you sure that this is the right place, Harry?"

He nodded his head. "Yep, I'm sure."

"Because I thought that you said that the wall would be blank. And this wall doesn't look very blank to me."

"Um, yeah, I can see that too."

"So then _why_ is it not blank? Did the door get left behind from when you and Ron last used it?"

"No way," Harry said as he shook his head. "When Ron and I left the room the door we made vanished behind us like it had never been there in the first place. I saw it happen with my own two eyes."

After puzzling over the oddity for a few more seconds, Harry decided to take the lead and move ahead. He pulled the door open and poked inside of it for a long look, ignoring the worried gasp Hermione let out from behind him.

What he saw inside did nothing to help him figure out why this door had appeared. Beyond it lay a simple, spartan sleeping area which looked to have been setup for a single person. Besides a small one-person bed and what seemed to be a fully functional toilet, the only other things in the room were what looked to be a number of greenish-blue potion vials sitting in a holding rack on top of a small desk.

In short, it was far too orderly and natural looking of a room to be found in a bizarre place like Hogwarts. Its seeming normality made Harry's sense of warning, honed over the course of his entire life, begin to tingle. He moved his head back to give Hermione a warning look; she nodded back at him and placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder, no doubt explaining Harry's unspoken words to the other girl.

Since, there was nothing to be gained just by looking at it Harry entered the room cautiously with his wand drawn and his senses alert. But much to Harry's surprise nothing jumped out at him or tried to harm him in any way.

After making sure that everything was okay to the best of his knowledge he called out for the two girls to follow him inside.

"Does any of this make any sense to you?" Harry asked as he picked up one of the vials. He shook it and watched as the liquid inside began to swirl. He itched to use Observe on it, but Ginny's presence stopped him from using the Game's ability. "Because I'm drawing a blank right now on why a normal room like this would show up in Hogwarts of all places."

Hermione shook her head, dashing Harry's hopes immediately. Then Ginny came over to stand beside him. The younger girl took the potion in his hand, uncorked it, and gave the stuff inside a short sniff.

A grimace came over Ginny's face as she quickly replaced the cork."Actually, I think that I recognize this stuff. From the smell and look it's got to be hangover potions. Bill and Charlie always kept a few in their rooms at the Burrow and I've seen my mum and dad have one every now and then too."

"Wait. _This _is a hangover potion?" Hermione rushed over to look at the table with shock written on her face. "What sort of disreputable person would put a bunch of hangover potions in some sort of unlocked bunk room _at a_ _school for children_?_"_

The brown-haired witch seemed to gather a full head of steam as she clutched a vial to her chest with both hands. "Of all the lacklustre, irresponsible, moronic things someone could _possibly_… You know what? I'll bet that it was Filch. That man _definitely_ looks like he would drink on the job. And given that this room is located far from the beaten path, in a place where no student would have a good reason to come, it would _definitely_ make sense. That dirty, ugly, horrible spirit of man! _Grrrrr_!"

While Harry opened his mouth to ask why Hermione had chosen to point the finger at Filch of all people it was Ginny who interrupted the other girl's burgeoning rant on rules and proper behaviour. "You know, I'm pretty sure that it was Professor Lupin. Didn't the two of you see his face? My brothers would like that every morning after they went out drinking until they downed one or two of these potions."

"Ginny!" Harry yelled excitedly as the pieces fell into place for him. "You're a genius!"

The girl in question blinked as she shot Harry a confused stare. Seeing Hermione's equally confused look, a rarity for the brainy girl, Harry shot them both a rather smug grin. "Hermione, what was the special ability of this room again? And who did we just pass in the hallway just like Ginny mentioned?"

Hermione stared at Harry and he could have sworn that he could see the gears turning in her head as the brainy girl thought over his words. He could even tell the moment she got the answer because the bushy haired girl smacked one of her palms right onto her forehead in clear exasperation.

"Yes, that would make sense," Hermione muttered darkly. "If the professor had been here first, and he really is hungover like Ginny thinks, then the chamber would have responded to his needs. Although I'm disappointed that it took me so long to figure out something so utterly obvious."

Oh how those words were like sweet music to Harry's ears. It was not often he got to hear such a line come from Hermione. "Maybe it's because I'm actually smarter than you are?" Harry said teasingly. "You know, what with me being the chosen magical hero of the world and all.

Hermione shot him down immediately. "Sorry. But we both knew that wasn't true even before we could see each other's intelligence and wisdom attributes. And I won't even get into the 'chosen hero' bit that even you don't believe."

"Bah! I'll bet that my charisma attribute probably makes up the difference between our scores. It's much higher than yours is after all."

"No! Just… no!" Hermione said in exasperation. "That's not how the Game works and you know it."

"Are you sure about that? Because there's a lot of stuff about it that we still don't know. I could very well be right."

"Yes Harry, I am sure. Very sure. Because the categorical nature of the Game and its various attributes seem to be relatively straightforward. Operating in a manner like you are describing would render the entire system as know it both useless and nonsensical."

"Nope," Harry said with a grin. He knew that Hermione was right, and that this was also getting them nowhere, but for the moment Harry just did not care. He was winning this meaningless argument and planned to savour every moment of exasperation it caused his best friend. "You're just mad that my charisma attribute is higher than yours. Admit it!"

But when a red-faced Hermione opened her mouth to respond to Harry's latest jab, Ginny cut into the conversation with an interjection.

"Um, what are attributes?" The redhead asked in apparent confusion. "And why would this room change shape? I'm… sort of lost over here."

Oh, shoot.

With the happy, fun atmosphere that had suddenly developed between them, both Harry and Hermione had forgotten that they had kept Ginny in the dark about the Game of Death. Which meant that most of what they had just been arguing about came dangerously close to revealing its existence.

Thinking on his feet, Harry tried to cover up their lapse in a way that would answer her question while preserving his secret.

"The attribute stuff is just something Hermione and I came up with to explain why she's so smart and why I always end up being the centre of attention. It's, uh, based on a muggle game that we know. We can teach you about it another time." Harry said with an abashed grin. He raised one hand to nervously rub the back of his neck awhile continuing to give Ginny an apologetic smile. "As for the other bit… well, remember when I mentioned how this room will always give a person what they desire? If Professor Lupin came through this corridor while he was hungover, and paced around while in need of a hangover potion, then it follows that the room could have made this place and put some hangover potions in it to match his desire."

Ginny let out a soft 'ah' of acceptance which caused Harry's shoulders to sag in relief. Then she turned her head to look around the room. "But if that's right then why does it look like we were the first ones in here? Wouldn't Professor Lupin have taken the potion if I was right about him?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he didn't find it? Or maybe the room refilled the rack after he used it? Either could be true, or maybe even something else."

"Maybe," Ginny said in a puzzled tone. "But if your guess is right, then how do we get the room to be the way we want it instead of like this?"

That point stumped Harry and he had no reply. The three of them began to bandy possible solutions between one another before finally settling on an idea posed by Hermione. Which was that, when considering what had happened after Harry and Ron had left previously, it was possible that the room would reset itself on its own if they too were to leave.

The three students left the room and closed the door behind them. After five minutes of waiting the door still remained, so they decided to leave the corridor for even longer before coming back again. After waiting for nearly twenty minutes and coming back the wall was once again blank and ready to give Hermione's earlier a try idea.

Harry started to pace within the corridor, keeping one thought fixated in his mind as he moved; that the room create a place which held Voldemort's Horcrux. Furthermore, Harry wanted the room to be small and empty. Barren of any object save that item and that item alone.

After pacing back and forth three times like Dobby had taught him Harry turned to face the wall. A small smile of success made its way onto his lips, for a new door could now be seen on the wall. Made from dark Mahogany trimmed in silver, the imposing portal made Harry instinctively think of House Slytherin's colours.

A cold, dark chill like that of the castle's dungeons even seemed to flow forth from its imposing visage to complete the overall resemblance.

Harry heard Ginny take a gulp next to him. Even Hermione's breathing gave a momentary hitch as she too looked at the door. Harry could not fault either of them as he too felt more than a little worried about what they were getting themselves into.

Gathering his courage, Harry stepped forward and placed his hand on the handle. He firmed his voice with strength he did not feel like he possessed and gave the two girls beside him an encouraging look. "We've come this far. Let's not let some door stop us, alright?"

"Right, Harry," Hermione said forcefully. Her brown orbs firmed with resolve as she placed a hand upon his own where it gripped the door's handle. Ginny placed both of her hands upon his left shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze to show her own determination. The warmth of their bodies pushed away the door's chill, as though forcing back the evil which dwelled within.

Not giving himself any further time to think, Harry took a deep breath and pulled the door open with a sudden wrench. He stepped inside with both girls following next to him in lock step, their respective grips on him never faltering.

Stepping past the doorway was like stepping into an ice box. A sudden, unnatural cold gripped Harry's limbs. His breath became frosty when it came out of his mouth and a cold dread, not unlike that of a Dementor's, seemed to sink deep within the pit of Harry's stomach. It caused his heart to race within his chest, and he knew that the girls would not be much better off.

Then Harry saw the only object within the room and stopped still.

The object was a thing of beauty. It was a crown of some sort and looked like something the Royal Family might have within its collection. Made of beautifully wrought silver and covered in intricate runes, the piece of extraordinary jewellery rested delicately on the stone floor, as though waiting for someone to come and place it upon their head.

The whole entire situation sent warning bells ringing inside of Harry's mind and instantly caused him to take out his wand. This time there really was danger present and, Ginny or no Ginny, Harry would use the Game's ability to find out what the danger was so that he could go about keeping himself and those with him safe from harm.

Harry pointed his wand at the object and spoke in a whisper. "Observe."

**Ding!**

**You Have Discovered the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw**

**Made from Goblin Silver, Ancient Magic Stones, and Powerful Wizarding Magic, this Item is Truly a Lost Treasure**

**Legend States that Any Whom so Place this Crown Upon their Head will Instantly Become Wiser**

**Ding!**

**Ravenclaw's Diadem (Cursed)**

**Gives the Following Traits When Worn:**

**+500 to the wisdom attribute; +400 to the intelligence attribute, -100 to the charisma attribute**

**Possession Due to Infused Horcrux**

**Ding!**

**Hidden Quest Notification**

**Destroy or Purge the Horcrux While Keeping the Diadem Intact**

**Quest Reward:**

**The Diadem**

**Two Free Levels to All in your Party**

**Do You Accept?**

**Yes or No**

The loud noise from the three dings ion quick succession caused him to flinch, making Ginny and Hermione stare at him oddly. Harry gave them a quick shake of his head to indicate that he was alright and began to read through the notifications.

When he got to the section detailing the Diadem Harry could not help but feel even more annoyed. Of course Voldemort had to take some really cool, super powerful relic and stick his soul into it. Just looking at the stat bonuses someone could gain from wearing it made Harry's eyes want to pop out from his head.

After seeing how high Hermione's 196 intelligence and 162 wisdom were when compared to everyone else their age, seeing an item which could give him substantially higher amounts of those very same attributes instantly caught his attention. The sheer size of them almost made Harry want to run over and plop the thing onto his head just to see if it worked.

Harry was truly tempted by the Game's latest quest. He knew that he needed to get stronger. There was no way that he could face Voldemort in a fair fight and win as things stood, and the next time they faced one another it might be Harry who was in the disadvantageous position. He could not count on Voldemort being weakened forever, nor could he always count on having a Phoenix miraculously come to his rescue.

But now there was a path to gaining a more stable and reliable method to protect those around him. All Harry needed to do in order to get stronger was to take the Diadem and get the Horcrux out. It all sounded so easy, and with something as powerful as the Game of Death on his side, then surely there was no way for him to fail.

If Harry were to place the Diadem on his head, then everything would become clear to him. All of the trials he had ever gone through; his confusing feelings towards his best friend and Cho; maybe even the reason why the Game of Death had chosen him. All the answers he had ever wanted would be his for the taking if only Harry were willing to take the risk.

While these thoughts whirled through Harry's mind, he vaguely felt as Ginny grabbed his hand and jerked it back with such force that the two of them nearly toppled over. At first Harry turned to scream at the girl in an unreasoning rage. But the mere act of opening his mouth to do so felt… wrong. As though it was not him that wanted to yell at her.

Harry's eyes shifted from her and back to the glittering Diadem sitting on the floor. Its shimmering surface glowed in the room's soft light as gentle whispers began to fill Harry's ears.

A sudden chill far colder than the room's temperature went down Harry's spine. There was something wrong with this situation. Very wrong. He was not thinking clearly. Something… something was affecting him, making him want to pick up the clearly cursed object in front of him.

Harry felt as though his mind were covered in a layer of thick syrup. His thoughts moved slowly as though struggling to go in any other direction besides picking up the Diadem. But the more the desire to pick it up grew within him the more Harry tried to resist it. He pushed and pushed at it until, suddenly, he felt something break in his mind with a resounding crack.

**Ding!**

**Charisma Saving Throw Successful**

**You Have Managed to Resist a Powerful Compulsion While Unaided**

Holding tightly onto Ginny's hand as she tugged at him, Harry backed away from the Horcrux. His lungs burned, feeling as though he had not breathed in minutes and causing Harry to take deep breaths as he stared at the Dark object in front of him.

That had been far, far too close for comfort.

"Harry," Hermione whispered as she too began to walk closer to the object. "Do you realize what this is? What we've found? This is Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem! According to _Hogwarts, a Histor_y no one has been able to find it since the death of her youngest daughter. And the rumours about it… oh, Harry, the room must have gotten things wrong. This can't be the Horcrux. It's impossible!"

Harry shook his head as a grim expression fell on his face. Ginny's face showed that the same thought was occurring to her as well, that what had happened to Harry was also happening to Hermione too. Just to be sure, Harry risked exposing his secret to Ginny a second time as he pointed his wand at Hermione and whispered Observe.

**Hermione Granger (Compulsion)**

**Age: 15 (Time Turner)**

**Brightest Witch of the Age**

**Golden Girl**

**Level 30**

**Stats:**

**STR: 18**

**DEX: 33**

**CON: 25**

**INT: 196**

**WIS: 162**

**CHA: 42**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Bookworm**

**Muggleborn**

**Taskmistress**

**Perfectionist**

**Calculating**

**Kind Heart**

**True Friend**

**Dedicated**

That confirmed it. Hermione was suffering from the thing that the Game had said that Harry managed to resist. Taking a page out of Ginny's book, Harry walked up to Hermione and forcefully began to draw the girl away from the cursed object.

"You're wrong, Hermione," he said as she fought against his efforts. "Almost nothing is impossible with magic. _Especially_ where Voldemort is concerned. Wake up! This thing is dangerous and is affecting your mind!"

Hermione looked at him with a pleading gaze, gripping his wrists with hands that felt like ice. "But Harry, this is _Rowena Raven's_ _Lost Diadem_! It's a legendary treasure! We can't destroy it. We just can't!"

"Don't listen to her Harry," Ginny said from beside him as she tried to help Harry draw Hermione away. "This thing is just like the Diary. They are _exactly_ the same. Exactly! It's just that this… this _thing _is even more powerful. Harry, you can't listen to anything Hermione says until we can get her away from here. And whatever you do, _don't _pick it up with your hands or touch it with your body in any way. That's what it wants you to do; I can feel it."

Ginny's words only confirmed Harry's own observations and that of the Game. The old plan to grab the Horcrux and take it to Dumbledore for the old wizard to dispose of could no longer be used. The Headmaster was still gone and they had no idea when he would return to Hogwarts. Keeping something as evil and Dark as this… _thing_… in the dorms until then was out of the question.

If even Harry and Hermione, two strong-willed students with more than a passing exposure to Voldemort's evil, could be affected to such an extent, then chances were that some of their year mates might be dominated entirely.

No, they could not rely on the assistance of others right now. They would need to destroy the Horcrux themselves, and they would need to do it as soon as possible.

Harry wracked his brain for ideas as he felt Hermione's struggles begin to intensify; the further he and Ginny dragged the bookworm away from the Horcrux the harder Hermione began to thrash against their restraining grip. When the brown-haired girl began to pull and yank her limbs in ways that could begin to damage her own body Harry heard Ginny curse under her breath. The red-head then let go of the struggling girl and drew her right arm up and away from her body.

The sharp crack of a heavy slap soon rang through the room. Hermione's eyes widened, and a sense of reason began to return to them as she looked around in bewilderment. Harry let go of her, but stayed close just in case she showed signs of trying to move closer yet again.

"Sorry, Hermione," Ginny said regretfully as she massaged her right hand. "But I couldn't think of any other way to snap you out of it."

"No, it's… it's okay, I think," Hermione said in a daze. "It wasn't your fault. I… I wasn't quite myself just now, was I?"

"You weren't, but it's okay Hermione. It wasn't really you; it was that _thing _over there." Ginny's voice turned venomous as she glared at the glistening Diadem. "It's just like the thing Harry destroyed last year. The one that possessed me and made me attack everyone. And until we destroy this one it'll just keep trying to tempt people until someone finally falls to its lure."

Hermione gave a hollow laugh while gingerly rubbing her cherry red cheek. "Then what can we do? We can't very well pick it up and move it like we thought. Not if it's already affecting Harry and I like this just by being in the same room as it."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, it's too bad that we don't have any basilisk fangs on hand. The Diary pretty much exploded once Harry stabbed it with one."

Harry, who had been following their conversation as he tried to think of ways to destroy the Horcrux on his own, clapped his hands together in triumph. The loud noise startled the two girls, but Harry did not care. Ginny's words had once again jarred loose the pivotal piece of information from his brain that Harry had needed to figure out the solution to their problem.

If he was right, then they might be able to take care of the Diadem on their own. And they could even do so within the next hour or two to boot.

"Hermione, can you run back to the dorms and get us a bag or something?" Harry asked in a confident tone of voice. "If we can levitate this thing into a bag and bring it with us, or figure out some other way to get it inside of the bag, then I think I know how we can destroy it."

The brown-haired girl nodded, her brilliant mind probably catching up to Harry's thoughts in their usual quick manner. That, or Hermione really was reading his mind. After instructing them to keep each other safe, the brown-haired witch departed with a swish of her black school robes.

Hoping that the walk would allow the brilliant girl to recentre herself after experiencing the Horcrux' temptation, Harry turned his attention to Ginny. "Your comment gave me an idea. That if this thing is really as similar to the Diary we think, then we can probably destroy it the same way. And while I might not carry a Basilisk fang around with me I _do_ know where we can find one."

"Down in the Chamber of Secrets." Ginny whispered in a trembling voice.

Harry nodded. "That's right. I didn't take the corpse out after I killed the thing and I don't think that Dumbledore has done anything to it either. So if we go down there then we should be able to find a fang or something else we can use to do the job."

Ginny's eyes hardened and she looked at Harry with a firm expression on her face. "Not only that, but if we do get one, then we can kill the Diadem right there without also having to worry about the reaction afterwards. Because once you get us down there no one else in the school will be able to follow us."

"Exactly!" Harry said with a triumphant nod. "The Chamber is isolated from every other part of the school and no one would care if that stupid place was harmed in the process either."

Ginny gave a soft, beautiful laugh while her eyes lit up at Harry's words. The sound was infectious and Harry soon found himself joining in on it. He moved closer to the girl and threw an arm around her slim shoulders, delighted in having come up with a solution to the problem at hand. Ginny returned the gesture and Harry felt the tension leave his body as they simply enjoyed the moment.

Bonding over a mutual loathing of Voldemort and his creations was not what he had been expecting to happen when he had accepted Ginny into his small group of friends, but Harry felt no desire to turn away from the girl. For after they had begun to laugh the room had begun to feel less cold. Less threatening. As though the power of their laughter had dulled the Horcrux' power and driven it back.

Which, on second thought, was probably exactly what had happened. Just like how the Patronus Charm worked against Dementors, their happiness was probably driving away the chill of the Horcrux. Only this sort of method was a lot easier than learning how to cast a complicated spell.

As their laughter died down Harry engaged Ginny in small talk about Quidditch. The two of them bantered back and forth as they talked about the upcoming World Cup, and Harry found himself enjoying her company more than he ever would have thought possible just one week prior. And when the conversation began to lull, Harry thought back to the quest the Game had displayed to him. The one that asked Harry to find a way to destroy the Horcrux without breaking Rowena's Diadem.

The rewards it offered, especially that of the Diadem itself, were rather tempting. Gaining levels would only make Harry and his friends more powerful, and the Diadem could be used to give him a giant boost in power. But given what had nearly happened to him and Hermione in the chamber and that he had no idea how to safely accomplish it, Harry felt that there could only be one answer.

He brought up the notification screen when he Ginny looking in another direction and promptly selected 'no.' Then watched as the quest's green text disappeared into the air.

**A/N:** I hope that you enjoyed the read! Not much to say this go around either since the turnaround was so short. I'll probably return to my long author notes in the next chapter so enjoy the brevity while you can.

But on a side note, while most of my side characters already have pairings of their own, I'd like to gather your thoughts to see if they align with my own. Let me know whom you would like side characters such as Neville, Cedric, Cho Chang (who is not paired with Harry, despite his existing crush on her), and others to end up with. I also have a few gay pairings slotted for the story (guys and girls alike) as I am a proponent of inclusion. So if you really want to see someone end up with a person of the same gender, then I could be willing to find a way to make it happen.

The board is open for discussion.

The only stipulations are: no incest, and that I have to find the pairing interesting. If one of the characters is underage, then I can find a way to age them up to an appropriate level.

And kudos to anyone who can guess the origin of the obscure hangover quote :3

Updated on 1/23/2020

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	11. Chapter 11: Destroying a Horcrux

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Eleven: Destroying a Horcrux**

Wormtail gasped as he woke up. He could feel his face pale from remembered fear at the nightmare which had woken him, sweat beading on his balding forehead while his body shivered uncontrollably. Jumbled, half-remembered thoughts of Sirius laughing while James' son and Remus looked on raced through his brain. The sound of rustling leaves could be heard as Wormtail flipped to his knees and began to fumble around the patch of dirt that had served as his bed for the night.

With a soft sob of relief he grasped hold of a plastic water bottle. The thing was half-empty, nearly broken, and represented the sum total of his remaining provisions, having been scrounged from the back of a long deserted trailer he had come across while fleeing. Yet as much as it repulsed him to be reduced to such depths, Wormtail was in no position to search for something better. Dignity and pride could hang themselves for all he cared just so long as he continued to draw breath.

Wormtail undid the cap and gulped the tepid water greedily. Some of it splashed across his face when his trembling hands squeezed the weak plastic a might too hard. The dirty liquid went up his nose, causing Wormtail to jerk and splutter when he breathed it in by mistake. He fell forward, gasping for breath while hanging his head down low in an attempt to clear his airways.

After several seconds of panic, it worked. The sound of his own laboured breathing filled his ears as the Dark wizard felt his body return to normal.

Or as normal as it could when he had been forced to subsist on pond water and gutter scraps for nearly a week. Fearing discovery, Wormtail had not dared to risk obtaining anything better. His actions had allowed him to survive, but it had not done his body any favours. His stomach protested with every waking moment and he had a constant headache. While the less said about what had happened to his bowels over the past few days, the better. It nearly made him miss his time spent as the Weasley family's treasured pet, but those sunny days were over and never to return.

Moving gingerly, Wormtail eventually raised himself to his feet and looked around. His panicked moment of near drowning had caused him to lose focus on his surroundings. No one was around him that he could see, but he could not be certain. Not when wizards and witches could appear from thin air or even hide themselves in plain sight.

But the most terrifying thought of all to Wormtail was that he would not know for certain unless he were to cast a spell. Since if the Aurors truly were after him, then doing so could be the same as signing his own death warrant. It was much easier to detect magic than it was to hide it, and Wormtail had only been able to jury rig such precautions in his haste to flee.

Erring on the side of caution had always saved him in the past. Without another moment's thought Wormtail switched to his rat form and darted into the forest's undergrowth, hoping that the small magical expenditure would stay unnoticed. His tiny body was soon swallowed up from sight by shrubbery and debris as he scurried along the forest floor.

He had not been caught yet, and he intended to keep it that way.

Worried about pursuit, the dark wizard had deployed a number of countermeasures designed to obscure his trail. Some were techniques he had learned with his old friends during their carefree school days. Others he had learned when Dumbledore had asked Wormtail to become a spy and saboteur for the Order of the Phoenix. Still more techniques had been taught to him by the Dark Lord himself after Wormtail had pledged his allegiance to the fearsome wizard.

All of which meant that unless Albus Dumbledore or Alastor Moody themselves were to come after him, at which point he would certainly be doomed, then Wormtail was confident that any other pursuer would have a more than difficult time while attempting to track him. He may have been a second rate wizard at most things, always overshadowed by his more talented friends, but he excelled at everything when it came to hiding. Being a rat Animagus was just the more obvious of his many talents when it came to stealth and espionage.

Wormtail paused below a raised root to take stock of his current situation. In order to throw off any pursuers, he had spent the night in a forested area close to the Channel. The place was located near his final destination and had offered the most secure spot to rest before completing his escape.

It was a restricted creature preserve set up by the Ministry of Magic that only certain magic users could visit, and only after going through a labyrinth of bureaucratic procedures. No one would think to look for him within its boundary as only a select few people even knew of its very existence. Fewer still knew how to enter, let alone move around while remaining undetected by the many surveillance wards in place to monitor the dangerous creatures. Wormtail himself had only managed to obtain the requisite information thanks to a lucky afternoon spent eavesdropping on a conversation between Dumbledore and Flitwick, in which the two had jubilantly discussed how the creatures contained within the preserve appeared to be thriving.

That serendipitous encounter had enabled Wormtail to sneak in when the game wardens had been in the middle of changing their shifts. Their blind trust in themselves and their spells had enabled Wormtail to finally get a full night's rest. Even now it worked to his advantage as he to began to run and scamper along the rune-laden trail the wardens had setup to keep themselves safe while on patrol.

It took over thirty minutes of running in his rat form before Wormtail was able to leave the preserve. From there a quick series of apparitions while in rat form – a trick which had taken him considerable practice in order to learn – took him to his penultimate destination.

The dark, cold water of the English Channel stretched out before him. An overcast sky and a stiff breeze seemed to have kept the pleasure boaters inside for the day. A positive sign for Wormtail as it lessened his risk of discovery. For despite their command of magic most wizards and witches followed the same pattern of behaviour as their muggle peers when it came to the weather.

Upon reaching the Channel's edge Wormtail switched back to his human form, wand held high. So close to freedom, and feeling a sense of justifiable paranoia begin to act up, he had decided to risk casting a spell. As dangerous as it might be – one of Moody's favourite hunting tactics after the war had been to lay down spell-webs over vast areas of deserted landscape and tune them to the ones he hunted – Wormtail could not afford to allow an ambush to catch him unawares at this critical juncture.

He began to silently cast spells around him, his hands trembling once more from nerves while sweat began to bead upon his balding head. Spells for detecting humans, magical traps, magical signatures, latent levels of ambient magical energy, and more swept through the damp sea air.

Only when every spell came back either negative or normal did Wormtail give a deep sigh of relief. He had made it to his point of escape at last. Now he could allow himself to relax and complete the final task at hand.

A soft thrum of noise filled the air as his blood interacted with the Dark spell he had cast upon the tree to conceal a portkey stolen from the Ministry of Magic nearly a decade ago. Satisfied that it was Wormtail's blood, the spell released itself in an azure flash of light.

A small nail that one might find on any wooden shed fell into his waiting hand and Wormtail smiled in victory. The portkey's magic activated in a flash, taking him away to a place his enemies would not dare to follow.

It was time to find his Dark Lord so that together they could take their vengeance upon those who had wronged them.

* * *

Harry nervously bounced from one foot to the other as he and Ginny waited for Hermione to return. What should have been a short wait had turned into a longer one than he had initially anticipated. And after their engaging talk of all things Quidditch had begun to die down, and Harry had denied the Game's quest, both he and Ginny had grown somewhat awkward in each other's company. The short redhead had begun to gain a slight blush on her cheeks whenever she looked at Harry, reminding him somewhat uncomfortably of her behaviour the year before.

Clueless as to how the situation had taken such a turn when things had been going so well between them, Harry tried to think about something else they could talk about and clear the air between them. Yet nothing came to mind. So, with that avenue not appearing to be viable, Harry decided to start working on exploring the room. The Game had given him a quest to investigate this strange room – and had promised him some excellent rewards if he were able to complete it – so he felt that he might as well get a head start on it.

Given that the only thing he knew about the room was that it could seemingly create and vanish objects as a person willed, Harry first tried to see if he could make a chair appear. After ten minutes of trying with no results, though, Harry gave up on the chair ever appearing. Thinking that he might have tried to start too big Harry tried to imagine other objects. Small things like quills or bottles of ink.

Still nothing happened. And after ten more minutes spent trying to use his imagination to cause other items to appear, including one of the hangover potions that had been in the earlier version of the room, Harry gave it up as a lost cause. He knew somewhat about how the room operated, but it was probably going to take a very long while before he figured out its secrets. Otherwise the rewards for the quest would not have been so high.

Besides, when was the last time even simple magic had been easy to understand? To Harry the answer was never. In his experience magic could be finicky or even downright strange at times. It rarely stayed static, often moving fluidly as though it were made of water or gas. And unlike with muggle science, where laws and theories could stay immutable once proven, magic seemed to have few fixed rules. What was difficult or impossible to do with magic in one field, such as Charms, would often be easy using the methods of another field, such as Ancient Runes.

Heck, the entire field of Transfiguration _exemplified_ this issue! As it was literally about changing one type of matter into another!

None of which was of any help to Harry in figuring out the room with his limited knowledge; he would probably need to spend days or even weeks on this project with nothing else on his plate before he made any progress at all. Deciding to put the room's inherent strangeness aside until he had some free time to mull it over, which would probably be next year, Harry turned to look at Ginny once again. She had remained standing next to the doorway after they had separated, her eyes fixated on the Diadem as she stood in sombre contemplation.

Though he was no mind-reader Harry had a good idea as to what might be on her brain. It was easy enough that even he could figure it out. And since the awkward atmosphere between them had gone away Harry felt that it was okay for him to move closer to the girl.

He gave her shoulder a gentle jab to gather her attention. "You don't have to go back to the Chamber if you don't want to, Ginny," he said. "A large part of me doesn't want to go back there either."

Ginny raised her gaze to look at him. Her pretty, freckled features seemed to lose the harshness that had been present when looking at the Horcrux. Yet a shadow of what Harry felt was remembered pain still seemed to linger deep within her eyes.

"You're right, Harry. A really, _really_ large part of me doesn't want to go back there at all," Ginny replied in a low tone of voice. "But I think that I _should_ go back. That if I go down there with you today, that if I go back to the place where the… the Diary took me, and this time I get to see something like it get destroyed…" A ghostly smile graced her features as her voice hardened with resolve. "Then doing so might help me to finally get over what happened back then. Because I've tried nearly every other way and the pain is still there."

The small girl closed her eyes and gave a shuddering sigh as she finished speaking. Then, as if sleepwalking, she shuffled towards Harry, closing the gap between their bodies. She then leaned her small head against his shoulder while wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the room's chill.

Flummoxed as to what to do in this situation – only Hermione had ever done something like this with him in the past – Harry tried to stay as still as possible and think of something to say.

It was all he could do not to jump when the annoyingly loud sound of a notification from the Game of Death rang out in his ears.

**Ding!**

**Hidden Quest Alert Notification**

**Stoke the Fire Within**

**Heal Ginny Weasley of the Trauma Suffered During Her First Year**

**Quest Rewards:**

**Max Reputation with Ginny Weasley**

**+10000 Reputation Points with all Weasley's**

**Do You Accept?**

**Yes or No**

Oh great. Seeing the quest notification from the Game only made Harry feel even _worse_ about the situation. Because this time it felt like the Game was hitting Harry right where he was most vulnerable.

Of course Harry was going to accept the quest! If someone he knew was hurting and in trouble, or even a stranger he had just met, then Harry sure as hell was not going to sit back on his butt and do nothing. The earlier quest he had rejected had only been about gaining power. They were two very different things, and one of them was clearly more important than the other.

Harry discreetly pressed 'yes' on the quest notification and took a deep gulp. Then, hoping that he was doing the right thing, Harry stood still and said nothing as he gently placed an arm around Ginny's shoulders. Different than when he had done so while they were laughing, this time Harry tried to follow Hermione's example and impart some measure of comfort to the red-headed girl standing beside him.

After a short period of silence Ginny raised her head from Harry's shoulder to look up at him. "Did you know that I still have nightmares about what happened?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I didn't."

"They come to me almost every night, and it doesn't seem to matter where I am or who I'm with. I've had them here, at Hogwarts. I've had them at my home over the summer and winter breaks. I even had them at my friend Luna's house when I stayed over for part of the summer last year."

"Madame Pomfrey can't help? Or, uh, other magic doctors or whatever they are called? I know the muggle terms, but I'm not very familiar with how medicine works in magic."

Ginny gave a slight laugh at his words though she shook her head. "No. She and the Healers at St. Mungo's helped me enough already. Potions and medicine can't fix what's left. Only time, or so they say."

Harry looked up at the stone ceiling upon hearing the bitter tone in Ginny's voice. He could empathize with that, as various people throughout his life had told him similar things in regards to things like his lack of a family.

Ginny took a deep breath. The shadowed look of pain within her eyes strengthened as she did. "It scares me, Harry. Because whenever I dream it's always the same. I see a pair of large eyes glowing within a dark cave. Then I hear a smooth, cultured voice speaking words that I can't quite understand, but that I know are meant to cause harm. And after it stops speaking I hear your voice. Just, not like it normally sounds. It sounds odd too. Then I hear what sounds like a roar, followed by the sound of your voice screaming in agony."

A shudder ran through her slim figure as Ginny continued to speak. "If that were all it was then I might have gone insane by now. But it's not. Thank the Queen of Dreams that it's not. Because at the end everything changes. A beautiful song begins to play in the darkness, one that fills me with such hope and strength that it helps chase away all the pain that I feel."

Harry nodded slowly. What she was describing to him, and the way she was describing it, was familiar to him as well. It was a nearly accurate retelling of the battle he had waged against the Diary and the Basilisk in order to save her life. But, perhaps since she had not been fully conscious during the fight, and was in a state of shock when Fawkes had carried them away, Ginny's memory of the event was incomplete.

That got Harry thinking. If she could not remember what had happened, then how could she ever fully heal? Was it possible to heal from a terrible event that you could barely remember? Harry himself had lived a rough life thus far and figured that the rest of it, for however long it might be, would be little better. It was hard to heal when life kept piling more wounds on top of the old ones.

But this was about Ginny. Not about him. So Harry clamped down on the emotions Ginny's confession had begun to raise within himself, wrestling them into submission and throwing them back into the deepest recesses of his mind.

"What you're dreaming about is more than just a dream, Ginny." Harry said quietly. "It sounds almost exactly like what happened when I went into the Chamber and fought against the Diary."

Harry spoke his words slowly, carefully watching her face to see if his words scared her. If they did, then he would stop. No quest or reward from the Game could get him to continue forward if it looked like his words and actions were not helping the girl beside him. But other than a small hitch in her breath Ginny seemed to be okay, so Harry continued to speak.

"The part about the eyes probably has to do with the Basilisk. While the part where you hear Riddle and I speaking, but it's all garbled is because he and I were talking in Parseltongue for most of the time."

Ginny nodded. "I figured as much. And I think that the roaring and the screaming that came next is from when you fought against the Basilisk to save me."

"Yeah, that part still bothers even me." Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair and grimaced. "I came so close to failure that night that it's honestly frightening. Without Fawkes' help I would have died, plain and simple."

Ginny placed a gentle hand to his shoulder as Harry stewed in his own thoughts. "But you didn't fail. You beat the Basilisk, a feat that most grown wizards would fail at, and somehow killed the Diary in the process. And… and while you were at it you even managed to save me, too."

Harry gave her a wry smile. "It's not as simple as you make it sound."

"Why not?"

"Just… well, it isn't!"

"Then tell me."

Feeling uncomfortable at Ginny's praise while knowing that he did not fully deserve it, Harry sighed and moved away from her. Then he began to roll up one of his sleeves. It was always easier to explain something when one had physical proof to go along with it.

"You see, after the Basilisk was released, Fawkes came to me and helped me to fight it. At first I had to keep my eyes shut while I ran around the room and tried to hide; a single look from the snake would have been enough to kill me if I had looked at it by accident. But somehow Fawkes was able to blind the thing. Doing that gave me the time I needed to gather my courage, pull the sword of Godric Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, and stab the sword through the Basilisk's mouth when it lunged at me. Which, as I found out shortly afterwards, was probably not the smartest of ideas I've ever had."

Harry finished rolling up his sleeve and showed the joint of his arm to Ginny. A dark blotch around the size of a thick galleon stood out from the rest of his pale skin. "You see, the moment I killed it the Basilisk's head fell on top of me. And since it's head was really massive – probably bigger than your dad's old Angelina Ford – the force of it falling caused one of its teeth to puncture my arm and inject the creature's venom directly into my body."

Staring at the dark scar tissue which was the permanent reminder of this tale, Ginny reached out a hand to touch it. Her soft fingers ran across the scar as Harry kept talking. "The only reason why I survived was because I got lucky and had one of the three cures to Basilisk venom quite literally hovering over my head. The tears of a phoenix can heal nearly any injury short of death… and thanks to Fawkes crying over me I was able to make a nearly complete recovery on the spot."

Harry then undid the rolled up sleeve, allowing it to fall loose once again. He did not like showing the scar to anyone, even those to whom he was closest like Hermione or Ron. "After that I managed to take the Basilisk fang that had punctured my arm and I used it to stab the Diary while Riddle was distracted. It made a terrible, ghastly sound the moment I stabbed it, but the thing died all the same." He patted his sleeve to smooth the fabric and gave the redhead a wry grin. "And that's pretty much the story of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny. Because after that Fawkes took the two of us out of there, I talked to Dumbledore about everything, visited you, Ron, and Hermione in the infirmary and then watched everything go back to normal shortly thereafter."

Ginny flashed a gentle smile at his words. "Oh, I don't know about that last bit Harry. Maybe things went back to normal for you, but they certainly didn't for me."

Harry nodded. "Yeah… I gathered that from what you said earlier. I had it relatively easy, but everything afterwards had to have been pretty intense for you, what with finally being free from Riddle and all."

"Harry, it wasn't easy for you either!" Ginny said. The small redhead seized the collar of Harry's robe and shook him as she spoke. "I know that it wasn't, so don't bother saying otherwise. Especially since you had to go back and live with those awful relatives of yours!"

He shrugged his shoulders while making sure to keep a tight lid on his emotions. "Eh, maybe not, but it was still easier than you had it."

Ginny gave him a strange look. She opened her mouth as if to say something in reply, only to seemingly change her mind and close it at the last second. The redhead then paused as if she were trying to figure out what she wanted to say. But after awhile Ginny just shrugged her shoulders and gently let go of his collar.

"We'll just have to disagree on that for now, Harry, but… thank you for telling me the story of what happened. I don't know if it will make the nightmares stop, but hearing you say that helps me to know that I'm not alone."

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry for a quick hug. Then she stepped away from him while blushing madly. "A-a-and I really appreciate it. A-a-and I hope that w-w-we can become f-f-friends."

"Of course we can!" Harry said with a smile. Talking about this was _much_ easier than reliving his first time spent in the Chamber of Secrets. "Like I said before, this trip is letting us get to know each other, and I can see that we are going to be great friends in the future."

Smiling at one another, Harry moved the discussion to a different topic, that of the latest Hogwarts gossip. It had little bearing on anything, but was a topic which might keep the happy mood between them going until Hermione returned.

* * *

The mahogany door to the room opened with a bang. Startled by its loudness, Harry and Ginny looked up from their spot on the floor and stared at the person who had barged inside.

"I'm back! And I've got the bag." Hermione's voice sounded. The brunette bustled through the door with a determined look on her face, her mouth moving at the speed of light. "Now, how do you want to get it in here? I've been going over the situation while I was walking – I usually like to sit still when I'm thinking, but maybe there _is_ some truth to that old saying about walking helping to clear ones head – and I think that we should start out by using a levitation spell and then moving upwards from there."

Glad to be dragged back into more normal matters – though it was probably a bad sign that destroying powerful Dark magic artefacts was considered normal by him – Harry gave his best friend a quick nod of agreement. "Yeah, that sounds good to me Hermione. Ginny, any thoughts?"

When the girl shook her head no Harry took that as the signal to proceed. He cautiously moved closer to the Horcrux while Hermione followed him, the bag held in her outstretched hands while he tried a quick _Leviosa_ on it.

The Diadem did not even budge an inch.

Hermione switched places with him and tried the same spell to similar results. Then the two of them tried in unison while Ginny held the bag. Then all three of them tried and still got nothing. From there the group began trying spell after spell from Hermione's vast arsenal of knowledge. Ginny even used a few household charms that her mother had taught her.

The delicate crown of silver still did not so much as shiver.

Ordinarily, most students at Hogwarts probably would have ended at that point. Or resorted to some sort of desperate measure like tearing up the flooring underneath it. But with two magic users present who had been raised by muggles, the group instead resorted to more mundane means. After huddling together and arguing as to whether or not the Diadem's possession magic could be transferred through something like a stick – Hermione argued that it was possible while Ginny felt that it was not – Harry made the call to try it out.

He left the two girls behind to guard the room and made his way to the Quidditch field. Harry knew that Madam Hooch always kept the public facilities unlocked during school hours in case any students wanted to try and get a pickup game going. Thanking his lucky stars that no one had felt like doing so during exams – one of the most popular times to do so – Harry grabbed two spare beater bats and made his way back to the Room of Requirement.

Along the way he also used his wand to cast Observe on a few more of the students. By this point Harry had nearly captured the stats of every student at Hogwarts with only a small few still remaining beyond his grasp. Harry only hesitated in using it when he saw Cho Chang hanging standing in a corner with another girl. The Asian beauty's almond shaped eyes fluttered when she saw him and Harry felt his face begin to flush the moment their eyes made contact. The shock of seeing her look at him like that caused Harry to stop dead in his tracks as an inner struggle began to war within him.

Part of him wanted to use Observe on Cho to find out if she liked him. Another part of him argued against it, saying that doing so would be wrong. That it would be like cheating or invading her mind without her permission.

Ultimately the decision was removed from his hands and his ethical dilemma got shelved for another time.

After giving a soft, tinkling laugh which felt like it had charmed his soul, Cho asked him what the weather was like outside. The Asian beauty curled a lock of black hair around one of her fingers while she spoke, giving Harry a wide smile that lit up her face.

Only just noticing that the girl had her own broom over her shoulder, and remembering the beater bats still clutched in his hands, Harry grabbed at straws as he tried to think of what to say to her. He came up blank. His brain seemed to shut down under the pressure and he could not for the life of him remember what it had been like outside despite having just come from the pitch.

The next thing Harry knew Cho was thanking him and moving past him. Whatever had happened, Harry must have said something that made her happy, because she patted his shoulder as she went by him. Her hand lingered on the last pat, giving him a squeeze before leaving. The whole interaction must have taken five minutes or less, but to Harry it felt like an entire semester had just passed. It took a moment or three before he was able to pull himself back together and resume walking.

By the time he arrived back at the room it was to find Ginny and Hermione deep in conversation. Both of their heads whipped around when they saw him and Ginny's face began to flush a bright red. Hermione just smiled and gestured Harry towards the Horcrux.

"Let's try it again, Harry," she said as she readied her wand. "And just in case something happens and you start to act funny, I'll stand by to knock it away from you. I uh, I did a little reading ahead using next year's material and taught myself how to cast the banishing charm. Hitting you with it shouldn't hurt you, but it'll knock the thing out of your hands pretty effectively."

Ginny looked at Hermione in shock. "But isn't that a fourth year spell? A _mid_-fourth year spell?"

The brown-haired witch blushed prettily and nodded her head. "Yes, but it's just a spell like any other. I'm certain Harry could cast it if he tried. Maybe you too."

Harry gave a shake of his head and wisely kept his mouth shut. He did plan to increase his level of effort in regards to his schoolwork, but trying to compete with Hermione in that arena was a fool's errand if ever Harry had heard of one. Signalling the girls that he was ready, Harry approached the Horcrux with both bats in hand. And in a sign of what was, for him, a rare sign of caution, Harry slowly reached one of the bats out to give the Diadem a tap.

It budged. Slightly. But nothing else happened.

He looked back at the two girls for confirmation that everything was okay with him. Both of them nodded and Ginny moved up to take one of the bats from his grasp.

"It'll be easier to do it with two of us working together," she said. "And since Hermione is the only one who can cast the banishing charm I should be the one to help you."

The redhead took up position on the other side of the Diadem, while Hermione cast a levitation charm onto the small bag she had brought to carry the Horcrux. Eventually, after no small amount of swearing from both Harry and Ginny as they figured out how to balance the Diadem without dropping it, they were able to deposit the Horcrux into the bag floating beside them.

Hermione's charm failed the instant the Horcrux made contact. The bag dropped to the ground like they had tossed a boulder inside of it, landing with a muted thunk. Harry tossed his bat to Ginny and scooped the bag into his arms before either of the two girls could make a move on it. He then spoke as he quickly made to move towards the doorway. "Let's get going to the Chamber. The sooner we finish this the better."

Harry and the girls made their way down the floors and to the bathroom containing the entrance to the Chamber. Aside from a brief run-in with Peeves, who had tossed butterbeer caps at them while singing a rather raunchy tune about a boy and two girls frolicking in a field of daisy's, the trip was wonderfully uneventful. The three students soon found themselves standing before the Chamber's hidden entrance, ready to proceed.

Harry looked around to see whether the coast was clear. He did not spot anyone like Malfoy or Snape lurking about. Neither did he hear nor see Moaning Myrtle, a blessing as Harry did not want to get stuck listening to the ghosts stories of woe and despair. Feeling comfortable that they were alone in the room, Harry stepped forward and looked at the sink which had a stone carving shaped like a snake.

"_~Open~_"

The sibilant hiss of Parseltongue echoed through the air. Soon the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was revealed, its gaping mouth yawning wide like a snake stretching its jaws to eat them.

It was only then that Harry remembered another issue.

The boy looked around at both of his companions. "I kind of forgot to mention this, but the entrance is a bit of a slide down. Getting inside will be easy enough but getting back out might be a bit of a bother."

Hermione shot him a hard, questioning look. "Harry, are you saying that Salazar Slytherin, one of the four Founders of Hogwarts, went down a slide to enter his hidden Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Well I for one don't buy that. There's got to be something else to it. Something like another entrance or collapsible stairs. Because I just cannot see someone with Salazar's reputation, or even a young Voldemort for that matter, sliding down this tube like a child." The brown-haired girl's eyes bore into him as she shook her head in exasperation. "Seriously Harry, we need to work on your tendency to just jump head-first into things."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Doing things his way had worked out so far, but Hermione had a point. There probably _was_ a better way down that he and Ron had not discovered back when they had been rushing to save Ginny from the Basilisk.

Figuring that it would not hurt to try, Harry did his best to think like a wizard with a bad case of megalomania. "_~Arise, __Slytherin's__S__tairway of __D__estiny~, ~Come, Slytherin'__s__S__taircase~, ~Rise, __S__tairs of Slytherin~_."

A burst of noise jolted through the bathroom and caused the two young girls to jump and Harry to blink in surprise. He had not expected to get it to work quite so easily.

The surface of the tunnel rippled in the light. Indentations rose from the smooth stone surface of its bottom layer. Soon the indentations formed the basis of a staircase. When the rumbling finally stopped an imposing staircase of dark black rock lay before them.

Torches burning with green fire burst into being along its edges, lighting the way down.

Harry fixated on the torches for a brief moment; their green glow reminded him somewhat worryingly of the Game of Death's green text. Then he turned to face the dark tunnel which lay before them and took his first step back into the Chamber of Secrets.

* * *

Severus Snape was _not_ in a good mood.

In point of fact he was in a rather foul mood even by his own standards. Dumbledore's latest horrendous request, which had reached Severus short minutes ago, had caught him while he had been in the middle of brewing a difficult batch of potions to try and relieve the stress of recent events.

Sirius Black, that stuck up Pureblood dandy who had tormented Severus during their youth, had nearly received his just comeuppance. A one way trip to a Dementor's kiss had been waiting for the man, with Severus slotted to have a front row seat tot he event, when that fool, Lupin, had ruined everything. The moron had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane potion, and in his irrational state had knocked Severus out and allowed Black to escape.

Being ordered by Dumbledore to not drop so much as a hint as to what had truly happened that evening had only served to further infuriate Severus. Especially when he considered that the biggest winner of the evening after Black had been Hogwarts' resident glory hound.

Harry. James. Potter.

The spawn of his loathsome toad of a father, the boy had inherited his James' penchant for narcissism while displaying none of his mother's angelic brilliance. The boy's grades were mediocre, his ability to follow rules severely lacking, and his constantly growing arrogance seemingly knew no bounds.

The Potter blood ran true in that one.

Severus paused mid-stride in one of the many corridors of Hogwarts. Thinking of the Potters, on top of his still simmering rage at what had happened to Black, had caused his anger to reach an unbearable level. Looking around him, Severus saw that he was alone.

Perfect.

Severus whipped his wand out faster than most eyes could follow. The Dark curse he unleashed tore a nearby suit of armour apart in a satisfyingly visceral manner, the sturdy pieces of metal ripped to shreds by his powerful magic and taking the edge off of his anger. A quick vanishing charm removed the evidence and with that done a much calmer Severus was able to continue his journey.

Thoughts of Harry Potter inevitably lead to remembering how his father had stolen Severus' one true love. Which were in turn guaranteed to cause a surge of nearly uncontrollable anger and rage to well up within Severus' entire body that could only be released through the destruction of some one or some thing in Severus' immediate vicinity.

To this day he still could not understand how the vile Potter had stolen Lily away. The only theory Severus could think of was that the man must have used love potions, or perhaps some type of obscure beguiling sorcery, to cloud her mind. There could be no other explanation for why someone so pure and brilliant would have fallen for that wretch of a man, thereby depriving Severus of his one true love and managing to spawn who was just as horrible as his father had ever been.

But unlike his feelings towards James Potter while the man had still been alive, Severus had learned to accept the necessity of the younger Potter's continued existence. For so long as Harry still lived Voldemort would be drawn to the boy like a moth to the flame. And Severus would do _anything_ to end the life of he who had murdered Lily Evans.

It was this drive and singularly minded obsession that had allowed Severus to temporarily place aside his loathing of Black and accept Dumbledore's request. That, and because Severus felt that the man would be nearly as devoted as himself when it came to hunting down his former companion Peter Pettigrew.

The despicable little rodent, now firmly affixed in Severus' mind as 'Wormtail', would pay for his crimes. Of that Severus was certain. He would see to it that the Betrayer was killed alongside the Dark Lord if it was the last thing he did.

Many said that vengeance was blind. That it could cloud the mind, or cause one who embraced it to lose their self and sense of reason.

Severus disagreed with such narrow minded fools.

For the past twelve years thoughts of vengeance had only served to sharpen his mind. It made things clear to him in a manner that no other emotion could, stripping away needless things with the precision of a serpent's strike. And like the greatest of tools it had granted him the ability to realize deepest ambitions. Not for naught had Severus had trained day in and day out every single day since Lily's death, rising to be one of the youngest Mage's in living British memory. His thirst for vengeance had granted him power and his desire for revenge had given him skill.

All that was needed now was opportunity, and for that patience was required above all else.

His thoughts settled into a wonderful mixture of seething hatred, Severus opened the door and stepped into Minerva McGonagall's office with his customary sneer firmly in place.

He gave his fellow professor a curt nod in greeting. "I am ready, Minerva. Open the way so that I may depart."

The woman nodded her head in return. "Thank you for doing this, Severus. I know that it cannot have been easy for you."

Severus snorted lightly in derision but held his tongue. Many thought the woman beautiful, but to him any woman other than Lily was as attractive as a common muggle whore. Her words of comfort meant as little to him as those of muggle.

The powerful woman, one of only three people in Hogwarts stronger than himself, gave a light glare in response to his snort. But she too held her tongue, choosing to instead point her wand at a nearby fireplace.

Roaring red flames filled its mantle as Minerva held out a jar of powder to him. "Albus will be awaiting you in the Ministry's detention area. He has managed to persuade Amelia Bones of Sirius' innocence, but they require the administration of Veritaserum to seal the case beyond reasonable doubt."

Severus grimaced, picking up far more from her words than she had most likely intended. It seemed that the old man did not trust Minister Fudge to play with an honest hand when it came to the matter of Sirius Black. Dumbledore must have suspected that the Minister would try something fishy with the powerful truth serum's administration and so sought to circumvent the man. Bringing in an outside expert to consult on the matter, such as Severus, was well within the old man's authority as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

But it was also an act likely to cause a great deal of discontent within the Prime Minister's office after everything was said and done. Which would in turn cause opportunities once though impossible to become possible.

Since the old wizard's departure from the castle with Amelia Bones, more than one of Severus' old… associates… had owled him over the past week as they began to pick up on the tension building between Dumbledore and Fudge. Lucius had even gone so far as to say that the outcome of Black's sentencing could have quick and decisive consequences for the international competition scheduled to take place at Hogwarts during the next school year. And though Lucius was only a middlingly sized fish at best when it came to the Dark Arts, the man's ambitions in this area would bear further watching.

The Dark Lord was a master at taking advantage of the schemes of others, and the events of the coming year would provide a golden opportunity for the fallen wizard to regain his power.

Still, Dumbledore was most likely aware of the shadowy manoeuvrers taking place and had requested Severus' aid in full knowledge of the potential consequences. The man's penchant for keeping things close to his vest was a somewhat… annoying… quality at times, but one which greatly appealed to Severus' Slytherin schooling. It reassured Severus that he had chosen the correct path to his revenge and that the old man would hold fast to their decade old agreement.

Grabbing a handful of Floo Powder from the pot Severus threw it into the roaring flames as he called out his destination. Then he stepped through the fire at a brisk pace and into the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

Harry and the two girls stood in front of the slain Basilisk. The dead body before them showed only the slightest signs of deterioration; its scales still shone by the torchlight and there was no hint of rotting flesh in the air. Were it not for the creature's ruined eyes and a hole in the roof of its mouth where Harry had thrust the sword of Gryffindor, one could have have been fooled into thinking it still alive.

Just to be on the safe side Harry cast Observe on it.

**Ancient Basilisk (Corpse)**

**?**

While it was frightening to learn that the Basilisk was still more than a hundred levels higher than him, knowing for certain that the creature was dead made Harry sigh in relief. If the creature had started moving again Harry would have just grabbed the girls and run for it. Without someone's life or the imminent return of Voldemort hanging in the balance, fighting the Basilisk for a second time would have been the height of stupidity.

Ginny and Hermione looked at the mighty corpse with awe. Hermione muttered something about the snake being larger than any on record while Ginny, much to Harry's surprise, merely gave the corpse a cold smile.

Once Harry got close to the snake's mouth he had to pay close attention to where he stepped. Some of the poison from the creature's fangs had continued to flow even after it had died, causing a shallow pool of the venomous liquid to form underneath. The potent stuff had eaten away at the stone to form a slight depression.

Harry came to a stop as soon as he reached touching distance. The original plan had been to take one of the Basilisk's fangs out and stab the Diadem much like he had done with the Diary. Yet seeing the large pool of venom gathered on the floor had given Harry a new idea. One that, if it succeeded, would perhaps end up killing two birds with one stone.

Clearing his throat, Harry grabbed the attention of the two girls next to him. "Ginny, I think that you should be the one to destroy it."

The younger girl's eyes widened in confusion at Harry's statement. "Wait, me? You want me to do it? But this is something that has a part of Voldemort in it! Shouldn't you be the one to do it?"

"Not in this case," Harry said with a shake of his head. "I think that if you're the one to do it, here, in the Chamber of Secrets of all places… well, that it might do more good than if Hermione or I were the ones to do the deed. Destroying it could help you to feel better about what we were talking about earlier and help you begin to heal."

At least that was what Harry thought it could happen if Ginny were the one to destroy the Dark artefact. That kind of logic had helped him comet to grips with Quirrell's death at Harry's hands; the man the professor had once been was long gone by the time Harry had met him at the pub in Diagon Alley and all that had been left was a husk for Voldemort to inhabit. By ending Quirrell, Harry had triumphed over the man who had hurt both of them, and knowing that he had done so helped give him the courage to face the man again in the future.

So maybe, just maybe, Harry could help Ginny do the same thing here.

The girl in question stared at him intently. Then, ever so slowly, Ginny reached out her hand and took the bag from Harry's hand. It's dull brown cloth hung silently within her grasp as she stared at it for a long while.

Then, with a determined look on her face, Ginny opened the bag and tipped it over. The Diadem fell straight into the puddle of Basilisk venom with a soft plop, and for a moment all was quiet.

But the quiet did not last.

After a barrage of Game related dings Harry had not suffered since the first night he had gotten the Game, a terrible screech the likes of which Harry tore through the cavernous Chamber of Secrets. A writhing, twisting face screaming in unbearable agony rose from the venomous pool as the vessel which housed it was destroyed. It reached spectral fingers out towards the three students who stood nearby, howling its rage and hatred of those who would see it destroyed.

Harry grabbed the hands of both girls as it drew close. At his side Ginny and Hermione tightened their own grips, and together they stood to face Voldemort's shade.

The ghostly figure tried to draw closer, it's transparent arms shaking in agony as it approached. Harry could almost make out snakelike features on the thing, as though it had become more beast than man.

"Get the bloody hell out of here, you snake-faced bastard!" Harry yelled. "You're done for!"

At his words, Ginny tightened grasp on Harry's hand and added her own yell to Harry's. "A 12 year old girl just ended you, _arsehole_! You can't hurt me or anyone else ever again!"

In comparison, Hermione's words were short and simple. "You've lost. Now go away for good."

The ghostly hands reaching towards them began to convulse as their words hung in the air. The shade's mouth opened wide as it screeched in despair while a blinding white light began to radiate from its ethereal form. Then it was over. The last echoes of the wail came to an end, and the figure formed from the cloud of smoke vanished into thin air as thought it had never existed in the first place.

Harry gave the hands of Ginny and Hermione a squeeze. Then, with the danger over, he looked at the Game's notifications to see what had happened.

He smiled at what he saw.

**Ding!**

**Main Quest Notification**

**I, Horcrux**

**You Have Managed to Destroy One of Voldemort's Horcux'**

**Progress:**

**2/7 Horcrux' Destroyed**

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Stoke the Fire Within**

**Heal Ginny Weasley of the Trauma Suffered During Her First Year**

**Progress:**

**You Have Helped Ginny Conquer Her Nightmare**

**Now You Need to Help Her Get Stronger**

**Find a Way**

**Ding!**

**You Made a Hard Choice In Spite of Temptation**

**Horcrux Quest Reward Updated**

**Now Includes Bonus Levels for Each Horcrux Destroyed**

**You, Hermione, and Ginny Each Gain 10 Levels**

**Future Level Gains From Quests Will be Limited to Party Members Only**

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Restore Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem**

**The Goblin Silver of the Diadem has now Absorbed the Basilisk's Venom**

**Find a Goblin Smith and a Wizard Runesmith to Restore it to its Past Glory**

**Quest Rewards:**

**+10000 Reputation Points with the Goblin Race and Professor Flitwick**

**Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem**

**Goblin Friend Trait**

**Do You Accept?**

**Yes or No**

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Save Your Teacher's Job**

**Professor Lupin is in Danger of Quitting his Job Due to the Influence of a Horcrux Powered Curse**

**Progress:**

**You Have Found and Destroyed the Horcrux Located in Hogwarts Before Lupin Leaves**

**Now You Must Convince Him to Stay**

Amongst the many gems given to him by the Game's notifications there was one in particular which stood out. Which was how ignoring the Game's quest to keep the Diadem intact had been the right choice after all. Harry might have missed out on gaining a few extra levels, but if doing so meant keeping his friends safe then he would make the same choice every time.

Besides, getting ten free levels – for all of them – as a consolation prize was hardly a terrible thing. It meant that he and the girls were now that much stronger and that Harry was one step closer to being able to face and defeat his many enemies.

The more important part concerning Ginny was the quest notification he had received. Harry's half-baked idea had been correct. Destroying the Horcrux had helped Ginny to deal with the pain and suffering she had undergone when she had been possessed by the Diary. Now all Harry needed to do was find a way to help her get stronger, which sounded wonderful to him.

Helping Ginny, or anyone else he knew, to become stronger was something that Harry would have done even without the Game asking. Especially since he had already planned to do so for himself and Hermione once he had a better understanding of how the Game worked.

As for the other quest notifications that had popped up… Harry could feel a warm glow of satisfaction in his chest. With another one of his Horcrux' destroyed Voldemort was one step closer to being defeated for good. And with this particular one gone the decades old curse on the DADA position was now broken. All Harry had left to do was to convince Professor Lupin to stick around. Which was another thing that Harry would have done even without the Game's prodding.

It was nice to see that the Game's notifications had a tendency to match Harry's desires.

Closing the notifications, and clicking 'yes' on the quest for restoring the Diadem, Harry began searching around for something he could use to pick up the former Horcrux. The only thing within eyesight were the Basilisk corpse and the giant carving of Slytherin's face, however, so Harry was left to scratch his head as he tried to figure out a way to safely remove it from the venomous pool in which it lay.

He caught sight of Hermione lifting her wand and pointing it at the Diadem. A shouted _Wingardium_ _Leviosa_ caused the Diadem to spin gently in the air. Droplets of the deadly liquid fell off of its tarnished surface as it hovered in the air before a quick water charm from Ginny had it clean. Hermione then floated it over to where they stood and tucked it back into the bag.

Harry stood in stupefied silence as he watched it all take place. The two girls had moved so quickly and efficiently that he had had no time to object. Only once they had finished did he finally found his voice again.

"But that shouldn't have worked!" Harry said in shock. "We tried that before and it didn't work then. So why did it work now?"

Both girls shared a bemused look with one another. A smiling Hermione gave Harry a gentle pat on his shoulder as she began to explain.

"It worked because the Diadem was soaked in Basilisk venom," the bushy-haired girl said with a chuckle. "The reason why the snake's venom is so deadly, as well as probably being the reason it was able to destroy the Horcrux, is because Basilisk venom corrodes and destroys _all_ things. Including magic spells."

Ginny took up the rest of the explanation. "Which basically means that, even though the Goblin crafted part survived, the Diadem is now just a piece of fancy historical jewellery that looks like someone threw it in the trash for a century or two."

"Which is a shame, as crafting the Diadem was supposed to be Rowena's greatest achievement outside of helping to found and create Hogwarts. But on the bright side of things, maybe once we defeat Voldemort for good we will be able to add a footnote to _Hogwarts, a History_ about this. The tale of how the Diadem was found and a Horcrux destroyed would surely be worth mentioning."

Harry felt like he was trapped in some strange and different reality as he watched the two girls banter back and forth. Sure, Hermione knowing that information made sense to him. It was what she did and had always done for as long as Harry had known her.

But Ginny? How did she know all of this stuff? Because neither Ron nor the twins had ever displayed an ability to memorize and dispense any kind of information like that outside of anything to do with Quidditch, Chess, or pranking. And while Percy was smart enough to know all of that, Ginny was nothing like him so far as Harry could tell.

When Harry finally gave voice to his confusion the red-headed girl levelled an annoyed glare at him. "You do know that Hermione's not the only one who ever visits the library, right? _And _that I have a brilliant older brother who happens to work as a Curse Breaker for Gringotts too, right? So considering that I had unleashed a Basilisk on the entire school last year and knew next to nothing about it I checked with both to find out just how badly things could have gone. Long story short I learned a lot and made sure to remember most of it."

That… actually made sense to Harry. It made a _lot_ of sense. And probably meant that when they interacted with each other in the future Harry would need to continue separating Ginny's image in his mind from that of her older brothers. The girl was as different from them as they were from each other. Barring Fred and George, of course, who seemed to delight in having people confuse them for one another.

"Yep, got it Ginny," Harry said as he held up both hands in a placating gesture. He was big enough to admit when he had been wrong. "Point made. My bad for being an idiot."

Ginny flashed him a brilliant smile. "Thanks Harry. Hermione was definitely right about you. You really aren't as dense as Ron, especially when he isn't around."

"Aha! I knew it! The two of you were talking about me on the way to get the Horcrux, weren't you!" Harry yelled as he pointed a finger at the two girls, remembering all the times during the day they had kept giggling and shooting him glances as they talked to one another. But his declaration fell on deaf ears. The two girls merely shot Harry an amused look before walking away with locked arms, brightening up the gloomy dungeon with an escalating series of laughs and giggles which surely came at Harry's expense.

After standing still with his jaw dropped at their sudden dismissal, a fuming Harry took aim at Ginny. While Harry already knew Hermione's stats and traits, he figured that taking a look at Ginny's might help him to come up with a viable plan of action for taking his revenge upon them both. Harry was not certain how he might do so, but having more information when he created a plan could only help.

Only to once again be reminded that using the power of Observe sometimes came with the unfortunate consequence of unwanted knowledge.

**Ginevra 'Ginny' Molly Weasley**

_**Ginny is the youngest child of seven and is out to prove herself to the world. Although she has faced setbacks in her first two years of school, the young spitfire is out to make the next few years special. She is head over heels in love with Harry Potter, and has determined that it is either him for her or no one else. Her dream is to be a professional Quidditch Player and to be married to Harry with two or three children sometime after they graduate from Hogwarts. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 12**

**Level 31**

**Stats:**

**STR: 49**

**DEX: 67**

**CON: 60**

**INT: 68**

**WIS: 48**

**CHA: 81**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Survivor**

**Headstrong**

**Large Family**

**Only Daughter**

**True Friend**

**Clutch Performer**

**Boy-Who-Lived-Fangirl**

**Amateur Quidditch Player**

**Life Bonded to Harry Potter (One-sided)**

**Former Horcrux**

**Pureblood**

**Free Spirit**

**Dedicated**

**A/N:** In regards to Wormtail… I always felt like he was underused in canon. Expect that to change in this fic. Severus Snape, meanwhile, is turning out to be really fun to write. A brilliant character whose psychosis runs so deep, whom is highly logical and yet riddled with gaping logical fallacies, is a fantastic challenge to portray. I'll be taking him in a different direction than canon did as well.

Meanwhile, you can probably see where I am taking things with Ginny. She won't be as kickass as someone like Tonks, but I rather like the fics where I've seen Ginny become a tough fighter. I'm attempting to build a little more depth into her characterization along the way as I fill in the blanks left in canon. Because what we got in canon was not nearly enough.

A HarryxCho sighting too! But please remember that the Harry/Cho romance is doomed to failure. I really did like Ms. Rowling's take on that in canon when she had all three MC's have a first bf/gf who did not work out for them; my own personal viewpoint is that having at least one failed romance (be it either serious or puppy love) can often be a healthy experience to have in life.

Last but not least I also want to recognize one particular comment from the last chapter. I received several comments and a number of PMs regarding pairings for side characters and I appreciate all of your suggestions. The comment I want to highlight comes from Guest Reviewer CaffeineAddict, who suggested a pairing between Crabbe and Goyle. Gosh did reading that make my day. So bingo, presto! It'll happen down the road in this fic. And if anyone has any further ideas for pairings, well, keep on sending them my way.

**Addendum A/N:** I think that, of all the chapters I have written for this story, this one is the worst by far. I trimmed more than 3k worth of unnecessary words from it and yet it is _still_ sitting at nearly 10.6k total. Blargh!

Updated on 1/24/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	12. Chapter 12: End of Year 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twelve: End of Year 3**

Harry cursed his stupid one-track mind. Just when he had felt that things were going well between him and Ginny too. Not only was she still in love with him, but if his quick glance at her stats with the Game had not imagined things, she was bonded to him! How had that even happened?

Thankfully Harry's latest discomfort was short lived. For audible roar swept through the castle's empty corridors shortly after they departed from the Chamber of Secrets.

The three young students traded glances with one another before running for the Great Hall as fast as they could manage. Between the Dementors and the Horcrux, Harry could not rule out something terrible like an attack. Because never in his three years at the school had he ever heard a noise like that outside of Quidditch games.

The moment they entered the room the three of them could only stand still in shock. There was no battle. No dead bodies or injured students. Yet the entire scene was one of pure bedlam.

Students were running between tables, ignoring both House and Year level. Some milled around in the middle of the room, forming small huddles as they gestured fiercely back and forth. A few brave souls had even climbed on top of the tables in a fruitless attempts to garner more attention to whatever it was that they were arguing.

Then there were Fred and George who seemed to determined on furthering the tumult as they indiscriminately tossed rainbow hued globes of some kind throughout the room. The globes exploded into sparkling clouds which failed to dissipate after the initial explosion; there appeared to be more than a dozen of the things drifting through the air, changing the skin and hair colour of any student unfortunate enough to get hit by one. A group of multicoloured students sparkling like something taken out of a muggle concert were chasing the twins, but their attempts to catch the rampaging duo seemed to be for nought as Fred and George continued their mission of chaos.

The only thing apparently shared between each group was a special evening edition of the Daily Prophet. The thin rolls of paper were clutched in the hands of nearly every person, but Harry had no idea what could possibly be in the paper that could have caused such a ruckus. Though there was always the hope that Snape had been sacked, Harry figured that such an event would have inspired joy rather than the sprawling arguments taking place before him.

It was only after a delivery owl dropped Hermione's copy into the girl's shocked hands that the three of them realized just why all hell had broken loose.

_**Travesty of Justice!**_

_**Sirius Black Revealed to be Innocent?**_

_**Imprisoned Without Trial for over 12 Years!**_

_**Ministry to Blame?**_

_**By Terrace L. Wonk**_

_At an astonishing press conference convened early this morning, the Director of the D.M.L.E., Magus Amelia Bones, and Archmagus Albus Dumbledore, in his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, made an announcement of shocking proportions._

_That Sirius Orion Black, the known fugitive and purported follower of You-Kno-Who, is **INNOCENT****!**_

_Believe me dear readers when I say that we here at the Daily Prophet were as disbelieving to hear such words as yourself. Such an inflammatory statement beggars common belief, throwing into question more than a decade of established fact and certainty. The story of how Mr. Black betrayed his best friend, James Potter, and indirectly caused the downfall of You-Know-Who is the stuff of dark legend._

_But the words two of the most respected figures in Magical Britain spoke next took the wind out of the proverbial sails of any rebuttal. According to these two titans of Magical Society, Sirius Black, a man hunted by Dementors and proclaimed as guilty by the Ministry of Magic, was sentenced to life in the Prison of Azkaban… **without trial****!**_

_The press room exploded with all the force of a Dark Curse at those words. But in a display of her indomitable will Director Bones kept speaking undeterred._

_The powerful witch stated for the record that her courageous Aurors had, upon receiving new information pertaining to Mr. Black's crimes, "launched a thorough investigation over the past week" and "that, upon examining all of the evidence the investigation uncovered, the D.M.L.E. has determined two indisputable facts: that the man known as Sirius Black was never convicted of any crime and that he is, in fact, entirely innocent of wrongdoing entirely in the matter of the deaths of James and Lily Potter."_

_If this is true, and a travesty of justice with the ability to shake the foundations of our society has truly occurred, then one might ask themself 'where is the proof?' Why should we believe you? How could a terrible crime such as this have gone unnoticed for so long?_

_We too asked these questions dear readers._

_The response we were given is unsettling to say the least._

_The full details remain unknown at this time, but according to Director Bones, Mr. Black may have been one of a number of people to be sent to Azkaban with no trial. As many readers will recall, in the confusing months after the Boy-Who-Lived defeated You-Know-Who many of the fallen Dark Lord's former followers were hunted down. Some, like the dreaded Abraxus Malfoy, were slain in combat by our valiant Aurors. While others, like the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange, were cast into Azkaban to rot for the rest of their unnatural lives. Still more were proven to be innocent victims, such as the esteemed Lucius Malfoy, who had been placed under the Imperius Curse by his own father._

_Yet the Director and the Chief Warlock's words suggested the existence of a fourth category. A category of the innocent, who have been castigated and abused by the very government that should have protected them!_

_This suggestion was soon affirmed. When questioned, Chief Warlock Dumbledore unequivocally stated that "there is such a category, containing people whose terrible plight has gone unnoticed for over a decade, and that Mr. Black is absolutely among their number." From the little information the two were able to uncover – information since verified by the Prophet's own Rita Skeeter and to be detailed further in tomorrow's expose – the Ministry of Magic, and Aurors under the command of the former Director of the DMLE, Barty Crouch, Sr., captured, chained, and deposited Mr. Black based purely upon the eyewitness statements of multiple Muggles who were in the vicinity of where the event occurred. And Muggles, as we all know, are highly susceptible to memory modification spells._

_But wait, you might say, surely the Muggles were tested for signs of being under magical influence?_

_No my dear readers, they were not! Mr. Black, heir to one of the most prestigious magical families in all of Magical Britain, was thrown into the dreaded prison of Azkaban without so much as a Prior Incantato cast upon his wand. Nor was Mr. Black tested under Veritaserum. Nor were one of any other possible methods used!_

_Furthermore, Chief Warlock Dumbledore revealed that several of Mr. Black's close friends and family – such as the renowned Professor Minerva McGonagall and the recently widowed Andromeda Tonks nee Black – had requested at the time of Mr. Black's initial incarceration that a stay of sentence be granted until any evidence could be tested by a neutral third party. Such a request is a common part of our legal system, as many might know, and it is an important tool in ensuring that our rights as citizens remain intact in the face of Ministerial overreach._

_But their request – and one which Dumbledore himself filed two days later – was summarily ignored by then-Minster of Magic Millicent Bagnold! In what appears to be a conspiracy at the highest levels of our government, Minister Bagnold and those who worked under her deprived Mr. Black of his freedom without trial, silenced many of those who sought his exoneration, and buried the lack of paperwork under layers of bureaucratic red tape._

_Layers which, until the recent arrest of Mr. Black on the grounds of Hogwarts herself, proved to be impenetrable to even the most powerful members of our society._

_According to the Chief Warlock, he had "for many years sought to unearth the records concerning Mr. Black's imprisonment. But key employees of the Ministry of Magic fought…" each and every one of his requests at every turn. It was, apparently, one of the main reasons why the greatest wizard of our times took on the position of Chief Warlock in the first place even when he already held two other demanding positions in his roles as Headmaster of Hogwarts and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards._

_But what, then, does this mean for the average witch and wizard? How might this affect us?_

_What it means, my fellow citizens, is that it is time for some hard questions to be asked lest our society proceed any further down this slippery slope. Mr. Black's unlawful incarceration and its subsequent cover-up has grave implications for every one of us. For if a leading member of our great society, such as the heir to a renowned and respectable noble house, could be so easily deprived of his rights and freedom without our knowledge, then what about the rest of us? What could happen to us, or to our neighbors or to our loved ones?_

_The implications are terrifying. And if even the great Albus Dumbledore himself, a man with more power at his command than nearly anyone else in the entire country, was for years denied access to the material needed to show that one innocent man was falsely accused, then what else might the Ministry be hiding?_

_Continued on Page 7_

_(For More on Sirius Black, Fearsome Auror and Legendary Ladies Man, See Page 2)_

_(For More on the Prestigious Black Family, See Page 5)_

_(For the Official Response of the Minister's Office by the Undersecretary, See page 18)_

_(Buy Tomorrow's Issue to Read Rita Skeeter's Scathing Expose)_

"It's happening," Harry whispered in disbelief. His hands shook as they tightly gripped the newspaper. "The Headmaster and Bones did it. They saved him! _They saved Sirius_!"

Tears came to Harry's eyes as he read it again. After finishing the article for a second and third time Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and brought her in for a bone crushing hug. Because today might just be the best day in his life.

With Ginny and Hermione's assistance, Harry had managed to deal a devastating blow to Voldemort. He had finally been able to go on the offensive for once. And his reward for taking action was not the usual near death experience of past years. No, this time Harry's reward was the news that Sirius was going to be vindicated. That Harry's godfather would be freed with his good name restored.

And, hopefully, allowed to fulfil his promise to give Harry a new home.

Hermione squeezed him back and held him close. When they finally parted, Harry was wiping tears of joy from his eyes as peals of laughter let loose from his throat. And after reading the article, the sounds of madness from the rest of the students made sense. They were talking about the article and every single one of them seemed to have a different an opinion.

Some students believed the article in the Prophet unconditionally. To Harry's joy this faction seemed to be headed by the Gryffindor Quidditch team, with an angry Wood and Angelina boisterously defending their stances. While another faction, headed by Ron and Ginny's brother Percy, argued that the Ministry could not have made such a terrible mistake. That the justice system had checks and balances and that Sirius Black's true trial records must have been sealed and hidden away in order for the public's own good.

Then there were the conspiracy theories led by the likes of Roger Davies of Ravenclaw and Justin Finch Fletchley of Hufflepuff. This faction tried to argue that the story was all just a plot by some Death Eaters to free Black and turn him into the new Dark Lord. That, if he were to ever be freed, Black would return to Azkaban to free his cousin Bellatrix and with her assistance bring about an era of darkness ruled by the House of Black.

While the discussion raged on Harry looked around excitedly for one professor in particular. A rather important one with whom he needed to speak. Because if the news about Sirius was really true, then now would be the best time for Harry to strike and complete his other quest. And given how good the day was going thus far, Harry would be damned if he allowed one of the best teachers he had ever known to just walk away.

He left the hall just as an irate Professor McGonagall entered it and began quelling the chaos. Which turned out to a great thing, as Harry later heard that the deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts had nearly the room in her anger before order had been restored.

Harry had eventually found Professor Lupin in the man's emptied office. The usually dour faced man had worn a giant, beaming smile on his face that could have powered half of London. And for the first time that Harry could remember the Professor's smile seemed to have no hint of the sadness that perpetually plagued the man. It was merely one of pure and heartfelt joy and the second he had seen it the Game of Death had given Harry an entirely welcome notification.

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Save Your Teacher's Job**

**Professor Lupin was in Danger of Quitting his Job Due to the Influence of a Horcrux Powered Curse**

**Progress:**

**You Have Found and Destroyed the Horcrux Located in Hogwarts Before Lupin Left**

**The Good News About Sirius Has Convinced Him to Stay**

**Stay Behind and Celebrate your Good Fortune!**

**Quest Complete**

The quest to save the professor's job was complete, through reading it gave Harry quite the shock shock at it. Never before had achieving something he wanted been so easy.

But while it was an odd feeling to be sure, it was odd in a good way. So Harry took the Game's advice and spent the next three hours celebrating with his parent's old friend. The two of them had laughed until their sides ached and cried until their eyes could cry no more. It was the first time Harry had every experienced a joy so simple and pure and he knew that it would become one of those rare memories that was able to summon a Patronus. His dreams that night had been bright and filled with hope for the wonderful future now so close to being in his grasp.

* * *

The next morning found a silent castle. Yet one person did not find the silence welcoming in the slightest as he paced in the Headmaster's office and waited for the old fool to return.

How it galled Severus to know that he had willingly helped to clear the name of that human shaped piece of garbage now being praised by so many. Not even the knowledge that he had one over the man, and that it was unlikely the Pureblood fool could ever pay him back, could dull the acidic bite currently eating its way through Severus' stomach. Because without him having rendered his assistance it was quite likely that events would have turned out very differently.

For the batch of Veritaserum supplied for Black's questioning – as well as the two nearest batches located within the Auror supply cabinets – had been laced with a powerful poison. One that only the most accomplished of Potion Masters could detect and which had tested even Severus' great skill.

If only it had caused Black to owe Severus a Life Debt. But alas, such a thing was highly unlikely to manifest. Magic always took intent into matters where a Life Debt or similar form of magical connection was concerned. A benevolent or positive intent when doing the action was always required… and Severus' intentions towards Sirius Black when he had saved the man's life had not been positive in the slightest.

After an interminable wait the flames in the fireplace finally turned to green. They parted to reveal Dumbledore's lanky form as the elderly wizard stepped through the fire and into the office. The old man deftly manoeuvred around a glaring Severus without so much as acknowledging his presence, sinking into the heavily padded chair behind his desk as his eyes took on a look of deep thought.

Sick of having wasted so much time waiting for the man, Severus immediately cut to the chase of things. "Alright Albus. Though it went against my better judgement I've done as you asked and helped you to save the pretentious moron from his well-deserved fate. Now spit out what else you would ask of me so that we can both get some rest."

Severus had gone almost forty-eight hours without rest. And though he was no stranger to it, going without sleep could cause even the most disciplined of minds to make mistakes. Something that he could ill afford either as a Potions Master or as a spy.

Dumbledore matched Severus' glare with a simple, peaceful smile. Unlike Severus it seemed that the old man was hardly affected by his lack of sleep, something which should have been impossible for a person – no matter how magically possible – who was well over a hundred years in age. It sometimes made Severus wonder if the old fool had ever dabbled in the more arcane of Dark rituals in order to gain an unnatural level of stamina.

The fact that the man's smile never failed to get under Severus' skin certainly played no part in such thoughts, for a mind as disciplined as Severus' was far above such petty trivialities.

"Be still, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "You will thank me later for this delay. I have recently come into possession of new information that concerns the source of the Dark Lord's faulty immortality and how we might go about ending it."

Severus felt his breath hitch and his glare intensify. The old man had better not be playing him as part of some twisted game. "Tell me what you know, Albus, and don't you dare toy with me. Not about this."

"As you wish, Severus. But the information in my possession confirms one of our darkest theories. One which I had hoped to never have to fully consider due to its many ramifications. For if Tom was intelligent when he put his scheme into motion, then undoing it could take the rest of our lives." Dumbledore took a moment to resettle himself within his chair. "What do you know about Horcrux'?"

Severus felt his breath hitch again. He knew that term. Knew what it entailed and knew what had to be done in order to forge one. If Voldemort had gone down that path… then the Dark Lord's continued survival was put into perfect clarity.

As were the many methods one might use if they wished to undo it.

A surge of malevolent joy began to course through Severus' body. It wiped away all traces of fatigue and anger he still felt at his role in saving Black, for avenging Lily's death was a higher concern than any other.

"I know a great deal about them, Headmaster," Severus said with a dark smile. "Where would you like to begin our discussion?"

"The beginning is always best, Severus. So let us start there."

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur for Harry. The news about Sirius seemed to act like a good luck magnet for him. Because for the first time that Harry could remember something good in his life was not immediately followed by something terrible.

The media storm around Sirius' wrongful imprisonment had apparently done some good in that the swell of positive public opinion had enabled Dumbledore and Amelia Bones to more openly target those who were trying to obstruct their efforts. There was a veritable political firestorm beginning to rage as the Ministry's increasingly desperate attempts to quiet the situation only seemed to backfire, with The Daily Prophet and some other paper Harry had one day found lying on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room, the Quibbler, seeming to sense blood in the water.

Quite literally so for the Quibbler, as an article in it by someone named Luna Lovegood had argued that Minister Fudge had personally waded into the Hogwarts Lake seven moons ago as part of some Dark ritual. Much of the story sounded like so much made up nonsense that it caused Harry to wonder if the article's author actually knew what they were talking about. But as he found the paper on the whole to be rather amusing, with a refreshing and honest take on things that the Prophet often lacked, Harry resolved to take out a subscription to it at some point down the road.

But the best news of all had been when Professor Lupin had stopped Harry in the hallway one evening after dinner. The older man had said that he would be helping Sirius to readjust to things once he got out of some place called St. Mungo's and that the two of them were adamant about having Harry join them later on. And unlike the time Harry spent over the summer with the Weasley's it would not be a part time thing; when they came to get Harry it would be to take him away from the Dursleys for good. Remus, as he had asked Harry to call him whenever they were not at Hogwarts, had then clapped a hand onto Harry's shoulder and passed on two letters to Harry, with strict orders to leave the second one unopened until he had read the first one. An order which became clear once a giddy Harry had read the first letter in his bed later that evening.

The only dark cloud on the horizon during this time had been contained within a note given to him by Professor Dumbledore. After a brief statement saying Sirius had asked the Headmaster for assistance on becoming Harry's legal guardian and that Dumbledore had agreed to give it – lending further credence to Remus' declaration – the note had gone on to talk about far darker affairs. Dumbledore mentioned in the note that he was planning on looking into the Horcrux trait Harry had discovered over the summer and that the two of them would need to talk about it face to face once the Headmaster had gathered further information.

Considering what it had taken to destroy the two Horcrux' that Harry had already found, and that Harry himself was supposedly a Horcrux, the chances of him making it through his fight with Voldemort alive and in one piece were probably slim to none. But given how everything else was going well for him at the moment, Harry refused to let the news get him down and he had boarded the Hogwarts Express in a wonderful mood.

It was just as he had begun to nod off next to his best friend – and only companion for the ride back as both Ron and Ginny had made promises to join the compartments of others – that a certain someone who had been missing in action recently finally reared their slimy head. The doorway to Harry's compartment opened with a loud, crashing rattle as in stepped Draco Malfoy, flanked as usual by his two dimwitted goons Crabbe and Goyle. The two larger boys stood behind the blond ponce while Draco graced Harry with his customary sneer.

"I see that you managed to survive yet another year, Potter. The mudblood too. What a shame that it couldn't have been otherwise."

Harry stared at his wannabe nemesis while pondering what sort of retort he should give. This sort of interaction had become a yearly tradition for them and was one that Harry dearly wished Malfoy would end.

"But what's this? Someone else seems to be missing. Someone dirty, that smells like poverty and poor breeding. Hm…. What was his name again?" Draco gave an exaggerated motion of trying to search for someone. "Ah yes, I see now. The destitute blood traitor that would always follow you around like an ugly little puppy is missing. Good ol' Weasel face, right? Did _he_ perhaps die? Or is it that he finally got tired of your pompous personality and decided to leave you two losers behind?"

Harry gritted his teeth at the boy's words and stood up to retort. "Nope. I'm sorry to disappoint you _Malfoy_, but Ron's just hanging out with the other Gryffindor boys right now. If you want, then I could tell you what compartment they're in and you could drop by for a chat. Maybe you'll even get hexed a few times if you forget to speak politely."

"Heh. As if I would ever seek out that pathetic excuse for a wizard. The only one in our year worse than him is Longbottom and neither one of those pathetic idiots is worth even a second of my valuable time."

"Lucky for them," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. "What do I have to do to get on their level? Because if doing so means not seeing you ever again, then it'd definitely be worth doing."

"_Shut it,_ _Potter_!" Ooh, that remark had hit the bullseye. Harry made a note to remember it for future use. "A disgusting half-breed like you isn't worth my time either."

"Then what _does_ bring you here today, Malfoy? Did you perhaps come to get punched in the face for a second time?"

Hermione's words hit Malfoy like a slap across the face, containing so much more force as the girl had not even looked up from the open book in her lap to deliver them. Draco's grey eyes furrowed in anger as he turned to face her, small spots of red appearing on his too pale cheeks.

"I'd watch my words if I were you, _mudblood_," he said in a threatening tone of voice. "You may have gotten off easy last year, but the next time filthy things like you are hunted, well, you might not be quite so lucky."

That was the point where Harry had heard enough. He slowly rose to his feet with his wand in his hand. And although he did not point it at anyone, the threat behind his actions was clear. "Alright, _Malfoy_, it's time to go. The next time you call Hermione that filthy term is when I hit your face with a hex."

Draco's sneer deepened again, and for a moment it looked like he would cross Harry's red line and insult Hermione yet again. But after a tense period of silence the blond shook his head and backed down. "Whatever, Potter. Like I said, you and Granger aren't worth my time fighting any more than Longbottom or Weasley. I'm just here to deliver a little message."

"What? That daddy dearest is mad at us?"

The blond prat glowered at Harry over the jab. "Poor choice of words there Potter. You'd best mark my own, because my father's enemies don't tend to live for very long. And with some of the recent developments in the wizarding world beginning to shake things loose… let's just say that things are starting to look up for my family's fortune while your own luck is bound to run out. And if my father has his way, then next year the entire world will have a first row seat to see it happen."

His message delivered, Malfoy turned on his heels and swept out of the room in a poor imitation of Snape's menacing stalk. The door rattled shut as his two goons followed him out and back into the corridor, the sounds of their heavy footfalls trailing away as the slimy trio left.

Harry silently crept to the door and, before they were out of sight, cast a quick observe on each of them. Three successful dings later put a satisfied smile on Harry's face.

Hermione glanced up as he closed the door with a soft click. "Did you get their stats?"

"Yep. If you can get something out to write with we can go over them before the train arrives."

"On it."

After gently waking Crookshanks up and asking him to move from his place at her side – which the bottle-tailed cat did with great reluctance – Hermione took out her writing set along with a blank sheet of parchment. The results of what they saw on the notifications brought a smile to Harry's face as they confirmed things that he had long suspected.

**Vincent Crabbe**

_**Son of Vincent Crabbe Sr., a Death Eater, he and his friend Gregory Goyle follow Draco Malfoy on orders from their fathers. There's not much going on in their heads. While he looks dangerous, all it takes are one or two quick spells and he will fold like a sack of potatoes. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 14**

**Level 23**

**Stats: **

**STR: 32**

**DEX: 33**

**CON: 40**

**INT: 7**

**WIS: 1**

**CHA: 3**

**Traits:**

**Follower**

**Amateur Quidditch Player**

**Faint Heart**

**Dark Arts Initiate**

**Slothful One**

**Gregory Goyle**

_**Son of Gregory Goyle Senior, a Death Eater, he and his friend Vincent Crabbe follow Draco Malfoy on orders from their fathers. There's not much going on in their heads. While he looks dangerous, all it takes are one or two quick spells and he will fold like a sack of potatoes. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 14**

**Level 23**

**Stats: **

**STR: 32**

**DEX: 33**

**CON: 40**

**INT: 7**

**WIS: 1**

**CHA: 3**

**Traits:**

**Follower**

**Amateur Quidditch Player**

**Faint Heart**

**Dark Arts Initiate**

**Slothful One**

**Draco Malfoy**

_**Draco Malfoy thinks of himself as being destined for greatness. By fighting Harry Potter at every turn, Draco believes that he is advancing the goals of his father and Lord Voldemort. He is rude, crude, and not the brightest of wizards, but one should never turn their back on him. Shooting a hex at someone while their back is turned is the safest way to do it, words from his father that Draco took to heart at an early age. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 13**

**Heir Apparent to the Malfoy Family**

**Level 24**

**Stats:**

**STR: 35**

**DEX: 33**

**CON: 42**

**INT: 10**

**WIS: 0**

**CHA: 30**

**Traits:**

**Envious One**

**Gullible**

**Gossipmonger**

**Dedicated**

**Pureblood**

**Fair Weather Friend**

**School Quidditch Player**

**Pureblood Supremacist**

**Dark Arts Initiate**

**Blue Blood**

**Spoiled**

**Vain**

If the Game was correct about them – and it had proven to be correct about such things thus far – then Malfoy and his goons were _pathetic_. They may have been around the same average level as their peers, but their non-physical stats were horrendous.

It was to the point where Harry almost could not believe that any of them could receive a passing grade. Crabbe and Goyle were in the single digits for intelligence, wisdom, _and_ charisma. None of which Harry found surprising, but a fact which could not bode well for either of their futures. The Slothful One trait was particularly bad.

_**Slothful One:**_

_The bearer of this trait suffers from one of the seven deadly sins, sloth. They are less likely to apply themselves than those around them, and are incapable of holding deep or complex conversations. Gives an automatic -10 to both mental attributes. The amount deducted grows in proportion to the trait holder's level._

Meanwhile, Malfoy's stats were the highlight of Harry's day. Three in particular jumped out at him.

_**Gullible:**_

_Anyone bearing this trait is easily fooled. It has reached the point where it is ingrained in their being. It gives an automatic -10000 reputation points to anyone with the traits Paranoia, Cold Heart, Ambitious, or Calculating. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty._

_**Spoiled:**_

_Any creature with this trait has been spoiled by the ones who take care of them. Gives an automatic -5 to both mental attributes, -10 to the charisma attribute, and -1000 reputation points with anyone. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty._

_**Vain:**_

_A person bearing this trait likes to look good. They will spend an unnecessary amount of time making sure that they look good before appearing in public, and hate it when someone or something ruins their appearance. Gives an automatic +10 to charisma, -10 to both mental attributes, -2000 reputation to anyone without the vain trait, and +5000 reputation to anyone with the fanboy or fangirl traits. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty._

Harry eagerly pointed the boy's traits out to Hermione. "Look here! Vain? Yep, no one has hair that well styled unless they spend too much time on it. Gullible? With the number of times we've fooled him over the years, I'm surprised that he hasn't gotten any smarter just from association with us. And as for this Spoiled trait…"

He pitched his voice in imitation of Malfoy. "I'll tell my father about all of the horrid things your Game has said about me, Potter, and then you'll get what's coming to you!"

Hermione giggled at the impersonation. "You're terrible at doing his voice, Harry. Just leave it to Ron. He's _much _better at it than you are."

Harry shrugged his shoulders, not bothered by her criticism in the slightest. "Eh, that's fine by me. The less I have in common with that snake the better."

"Agreed. Now, select the further information option. We need all of the info we can get on them. So far the Game has told us that Crabbe and Goyle's fathers are Death Eaters, which gives us two more people we can mark as being known enemies."

After a moment's hesitation, where Harry once again wondered what she may have discovered about him as well as herself by using this very same option, Harry did as she asked.

Alas, it seemed that the Game loved to torment Harry with this feature.

_**Draco Malfoy**_

_Draco Malfoy thinks of himself as being destined for greatness. By fighting Harry Potter at every turn, Draco believes that he is advancing the goals of his father and Lord Voldemort. He is rude, crude, and not the brightest of wizards, but one should never turn their back on him. Shooting a hex at someone while their back is turned is the safest way to do it, words from his father that Draco took to heart at an early age._

_Draco loves and respects his father more than anything else in the world and takes his word as biblical truth. Lucius Malfoy raised Draco in his own image from birth; as a result, Draco has grown up with political intrigue and the Dark Arts from his earliest days. He has a cold relationship with Narcissa, who he knows is not his birth mother. Their relationship has only chilled further since his father informed Draco of their impending divorce._

_He is fond of his two followers, Crabbe and Goyle, and somewhat fond of his betrothed Pansy. Beyond the three of them his circle of friends is non-existent. Everyone around him is seen either a tool to be used on his way to greatness, or an opponent who needs to be crushed._

_Draco dreams of becoming the Dark Lord's right hand man and ruling magical Britain by his side. He believes that the Malfoy family is fated to ascend to the highest ranks of power the day he takes over from his father._

_Draco Malfoy has white-blond hair, stormy grey eyes, white skin, and stands at 4'6. He has broad shoulders, and is not well-endowed for his age._

_Allies: Lucius Malfoy_

_Friendly: Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy_

_Acquaintances: Fellow Slytherin students_

_Hostile: Anyone in Gryffindor or associated with either Harry or Dumbledore._

_Hated Ones: Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy_

_Romantic Affections: Harry Potter (strong), Narcissa Malfoy (strong), Pansy Parkinson (moderate), Daphne Greengrass (moderate), Astoria Greengrass (moderate), Cedric Diggory (moderate) Hermione Granger (weak), Ronald Weasley (weak)_

Draco Malfoy, for one reason or another, was seriously messed up.

Harry did not even know where to begin. Whether it was about Draco's family history, his delusions of grandeur, or the fact that he both hated and was attracted to Harry and his own _mother_ at the same time… it was everything Harry had ever feared to learn about the other boy and more.

He found himself reading through it in horrified fascination several times before Hermione's sharp poke reminded him that he needed to read it aloud in order for her to write it down. She treated it all with a clinician's sense of detachment, only pausing when he reached the part of how Draco was attracted to his stepmother, whom Harry remembered as being a rather pretty platinum blonde.

"You're joking with me," she said in a deadpan tone. "You have to be. It's just not possible that Draco wants his mother_._Because if that's true, then, _ewwww_! Gross!"

Harry nodded absent-mindedly. "I wish that I were joking, Hermione. It's all right there. According to the Game Draco definitely wants her. Bad. As well as you. And Ron. And me too. With a few others added in for good measure. Oh, and did I forget to say me? Because evidently he really, really likes me. Like, more than anyone else other than his step-mother. Blech!"

He might have been freaking out about that part a little. But Harry rationalized it by telling himself that anyone other than a human shaped piece of slime would also feel the same way if they were put in his position. _No one_ should have bear being liked by Draco Malfoy.

But as if to challenge Harry's internal rationalization, Hermione hummed softly as she began to muse aloud. "Well, aside from his mother – although I guess that she's apparently his stepmum, so while it's still bad it's not _quite_ incestuous – the rest of his romantic affections do make some sense."

"_What?_" Harry yelled in shock. "How? Why? What part other than the bit about Parkinson and the Greengrasses does _not_ come as a surprise to you? Whatever made you think that Draco would like _any_ of us in that way? You're a muggleborn for Merlin's sake while Ron, Cedric and I are all _boys_! Who happen to like _girls_!"

At least Harry and Ron did. He had not looked at Cedric's character page, but Harry was willing to assume that Cedric was the same and not look into it in detail.

The brown-haired girl shot him an evaluative look as she paused in her writing. "Harry, come on. I can't believe that you haven't considered the idea."

"Then you're wrong!" Yep. Harry was definitely freaking out over this. But he felt justified because n_o one_, be they man or woman, deserved to have Draco Malfoy like them. "Because I hadn't! _Ever_! And _especially_ not with Draco Malfoy!"

After giving Harry an evaluative look, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and spoke in a calming tone. "Well, considering Draco's upbringing, none of the romantic information is really all that surprising. Where I'm concerned it's because he clearly wants to dominate anything that he views as below him and yet finds to be threatening. The same probably holds true for Daphne and her sister… and for his stepmum as well, now that I think about it that way."

"But… ugh, okay, even if that's true, then why the boys? Why? And why _me_ in particular?" That part more than anything is what made Harry's head hurt. "Malfoy _hates_ me! The Game even confirmed it!"

"Because life isn't always that simple, Harry. Especially yours. And sometimes in life – although I recommend asking Sirius and Professor Lupin about this subject over the summer for details – some people like both boys _and_ girls. Neither you nor I are like that, but Draco is. But remember that it's his _other_ traits which make him a bad person and not the fact that he happens to like you and a few other boys."

Harry groaned and hit his head against the seat's backboard. Damn Draco Malfoy and damn the Game of Death for at last finding a way to turn the boy into a credible threat. Because though the blonde ponce was the further thing from a threat to Harry in a fight, the prospect of being asked out on a date by the prat was utterly horrifying.

"Besides," Hermione said in a teasing tone of voice, "it finally explains why he always stops by to see you throughout the year."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her in trepidation. "Please don't say what I think you're about to say."

"Hm… I believe that there's a Japanese term for people like Draco. What was it again… Aha! It's called being a Tsundere!" Hermione's eyes glittered as she leaned in close. "Draco hates you, but he loves you too. He won't stop arguing with you and can't stop thinking about you! It's a classic case if I've ever heard of one."

"Well this isn't Japan, Hermione. And it's not funny."

"Says you, Harry. I think that it's rather fascinating. Who knows, Draco might even feel that the threats you exchange with one another are some weird type of flirting, where you are actually communicating your mutual attraction to one another in a way that others could never comprehend."

"Nope," Harry said flatly. "I mean every word that I say to him."

It was the honest to God truth. When he had told the prat to off himself by jumping into a vat of boiling toad spawn, or to clean out his ears using a dagger, Harry meant every word.

"Which is exactly _why_ he likes you. Because just like all of the girls who are after you, Draco understands that you are truly a _kind_ and _sincere_ boy who would treat him like the little darling he really is on the inside."

The image of a smiling Draco reaching gently for Harry's hand popped into Harry's brain. Where it was promptly smashed into smithereens as Harry's mental defences violently reasserted themselves.

"Oh God! Blech! No! C'mon Hermione, give me a break already. Please!" Harry groaned aloud as he placed his hands over his head. "You're only making it worse. Just give it a rest before I throw up."

Hermione giggled and poked his side. "Spoilsport."

But, thankfully, she listened to Harry's plea and dropped the subject. Thereby allowing Harry to begin the process of burying the memory of Malfoy's affections towards him as deep into his subconscious as was humanly possibly, where it would hopefully never see the light of day again.

When the warning bell sounded that they were ten minutes out, it was with the greatest reluctance that Harry took off his school robes and changed back into his muggle street clothes. The ill-fitting items were only slightly less loose on him than they had been at the beginning of the year and looked just as horrible. Harry and Dudley were such radically different body shapes that nothing the larger boy wore would ever fully fit Harry. Finished changing, he opened the compartment door and switched places with Hermione so that she could change in private.

Once the train had come to a complete stop Harry and Hermione grabbed their trunks and made their way out of the compartment. The two of them greeted a few people along the way, like the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chaser trio. Harry shook hands with Oliver Wood one final time, wishing the older boy the best of luck in making it onto a professional Quidditch team. After which, and to Harry's great surprise, Hermione exchanged cordial farewells with the Slytherin beauty Daphne Greengrass. Who in turn gave Harry a polite nod as she walked away with a swish of her fancy robes.

After they had finished saying goodbye to Ron and Ginny, both of whom mentioned how excited they were for when Harry and Hermione would visit their home during the summer, it was time for the last parting and hardest parting of all.

Hermione grabbed Harry in a hug tight enough to crack his spine, one which Harry returned with equal intensity. No words were exchanged between as they simply relaxed into the other's presence. Eventually they separated from one another and moved along. Both left the magical portion of the platform and went through the barrier to the muggle side. Hermione moved to her parents, who gave Harry a friendly wave, while Harry moved to where a surly Vernon Dursley was standing in a pinstriped business suit.

The walrus of a man was already glaring at him over some imagined slight. Possibly having to do with being forced to wait for the boy he perceived to be a freak. Or maybe for something else entirely.

But for once Harry did not mind. Because he had some news which would both cheer and frighten the ugly man who had neglected Harry throughout his childhood. For on the night Harry had read the letter from Remus the Game of Death had given Harry a new quest. One that Harry had accepted without a single iota of hesitation and made Harry's stomach bubble with anticipation.

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Leave the Dursleys and Never Look Back**

**Quest Reward:**

**Peace of Mind**

**A New and Better Life**

**+5 Levels**

**Quest Failure**

**Continue Living with the Dursleys**

**Magical and Emotional Growth Stunted**

**Effects of the Walking Target Trait Multiple by a Factor of Five**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

**A/N:** And with that Year 3 has come to an end. Finally! Now I can begin to take you all forward into my AU world and allow events to move at a faster pace. The next three chapters will be a brief interlude as I step away from Harry's viewpoint. One of the chapters will be Dursley specific, another one will be focused on the Marauders and two others, while another will be focused on Harry's girls. Including the reveal of girl number three! ^-^

Also, just as a blanket disclaimer for future chapters, if anything that I write contradicts the events of canon… it was probably very much intentional. And if I decide to include something from canon, like the prophecy, or a story related to death, it would probably be a good idea to look at the details or wording of what I write.

For as they say the Devil is always in the details. XD

**A/N Addendum:** If chapter 11 was the worst, then this chapter was the runner up. 2K words removed and a metric ton of editing completed. Phaw!

Updated on 1/26/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	13. Chapter 13: The Dursleys

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter 13: The Dursleys**

Petunia Dursley was not a happy woman. She was a woman of class and sophistication who had been forced to play the role of a middling housewife living in a bland, common neighbourhood built for bland, common people. It was nothing like the four story home in which she had grown up, nor was it anything like the giant mansion she had once dreamed of having her future husband buy for her.

Her son Dudley, angelic and handsome, was the one bright spot in her entire life. While the other two males she lived with should have been relegated to Darwin's discard bin.

Vernon Dursley, her husband, was an arrogant pig of a man filled with more bark than bite. While her nephew, Harry, was an abnormal freak. Were it not for Albus Dumbledore's threats and the oath Petunia had been forced to swear to protect the child from all danger, the little maggot never would have entered her home. She would have dumped the boy in the nearest orphanage and never looked backwards; the amount Dumbledore paid her for the boy's annual upkeep was nowhere close to the emotional toll that raising the child had taken from her.

No one should have to deal with flying furniture or disappearing objects. It was unnatural, and in her opinion anyone who displayed such abilities should be murdered while still in the crib.

But she had obeyed her orders to the letter, giving the young hell-spawn the bare minimum of assistance while ensuring that the boy grew up in relative health. If some days he came back home from school with a black eye and a bruised lip… well, that happened to little boys. His magic usually fixed the various injuries within a few days anyway.

Under her suggestion, Vernon also pursued a similar track. At first the hunk of a man had wanted to beat the freakishness out of the boy just like Vernon's own father had beaten the flaws out of him. Saying that it was the right and proper way to discipline an unruly child, lest they give the boy the unfounded notion that the family approved of his freakishness. But Petunia had frowned on it and had persuaded Vernon otherwise, because she knew that if Vernon were to start beating the boy then it could easily spiral out of control. Vernon was many things, but a man of wisdom and restrain was not one of them.

In order to make sure that he stayed docile Petunia had used every method at her disposal. She made sure to spike his evening drinks after hard days; she serviced him in degrading, sexual ways that none of her fellow housewives did for their own husbands; and she always made sure to stroke the man's ego whenever they hosted someone and watch the man's beady eyes shine with glee as his wife consistently burnished his reputation as a powerful and virile man.

In return Vernon always made sure to give Petunia and their son whatever items they desired. Except for a new house. On that subject – and only that subject – did the man prove to be intractable. Vernon made more than enough to afford a better home, or to move to a better neighbourhood, but he refused to budge. There was always a different excuse too, and Petunia despaired of ever leaving the hovel that was their home in Little Whinging.

So as she bustled around her small home, planning her next 'trip' to the city to visit one of the young boys she sometimes used to fill her own sexual cravings, Petunia readied herself to glory in the boy's defeated form. This was the one time of year that the freak was unable to hide his sadness over leaving his fellow freaks behind, which made it the one time of year that Petunia actually looked forward to seeing the child.

It never occurred to her that this year could – or would – be any different. Because Petunia Dursley was a creature of habit, and when it came to Harry Potter, the possibility of the boy obtaining even an iota of happiness was utterly inconceivable.

* * *

Vernon Dursley was not a patient man. Nor was he one to abide by the will or desires of anyone other than himself. So when his freak of a nephew, whom Vernon loathed with every fibre of his being, had greeted him with a beaming smile on his face, the urge to wring the boy's neck had begun to rise. Vernon had been a second away from smacking the child when his instincts had screamed out in warning for him to hold off on it.

Vernon always trusted his instincts. They had never failed him before whether it was in business or in his personal life. So when he paired the feeling of danger with the freak's abnormal attitude, rather than the defeated or sad look of years past, a cold feeling washed over the large man. It cooled off his temper long enough for them to drive the boy back to their house and enter the front door.

Then the boy had the gall to drop his stuff onto the floor in the entrance way, and Vernon felt his suspicions began to grow. Something really was different. The boy had never been this confident in the past and he _had_ to know that Vernon and Petunia would find his actions to be inexcusable. Which meant that the boy was probably looking for a confrontation. A tactic that Vernon had often used in his youth and had polished to an art in his business dealings.

Vernon peered closer as the boy greeted Petunia. Oh yes, Vernon could see the signs written clear on the boy's arrogant face, so much like his toe-rag of a father. The boy was up to something, and Vernon would not let himself be taken in by it.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," the boy said in his newfound arrogance. The freak stood next to the bottom of the stairs, his eyes briefly flickering to the tiny cupboard which he had once been allotted as living space. "Have you had a pleasant year in my absence?"

Petunia, every bit the dutiful wife and mother, drew herself up with a delightful air of dignity in response to the child's disrespectful greeting. "It has gone well, thank you very much. Why, Dudley returned from Smelting just the other day! The poor boy was nearly starved by those terrible school cooks, however, and is currently out recuperating?"

Even if it was done on accident, Vernon approved of Petunia's method of answering. The stupid freak sometimes forgot that Dudley was his better in every way. So shoving Dursley's brilliance into the boy's face was always a good strategy, especially if he was begging to grow uppity as Vernon suspected.

"My year also went very well. I made several new friends and had quite an exciting finish to the year."

"Ah. Well, good on you, boy." Petunia's face scrunched as she looked at the child. It seemed that she knew something was off, but unlike Vernon she had yet to figure out that the freak was spoiling for a confrontation. "Will that be all? Vernon and I are expecting company later and I will _not _allow your freakish school stuff to litter about my home, boy."

"Hm… Actually, now that you mention it, I _do_ have something more to share with you Aunt Petunia. With both of you, actually. News that will be good for all of us. But before we get to that I have something to ask of Aunt Petunia." The freak's vile smile widened as he looked between Vernon and Petunia. "Do you happen to remember the news last summer of a man named Sirius Black escaping from prison?"

Petunia nodded her head. "Of course I do. He was still on the nation's most wanted list when I checked last week. It's absolutely criminal that the Bobbies still haven't caught the man! But what has that got to do with your news?"

"Huh," the boy said to himself absent-mindedly. "Looks like the information hasn't quite reached the muggle side of things yet. Good to know; I'll need to write to the Headmaster and Remus so they can handle it. Hedwig should be able to find them pretty fast if I do it right away."

Then, as if remembering that he had an audience, the freak looked back at his aunt. "In any case, Aunt Petunia, my news actually has several things to do with him. First, as things turned out, Sirius Black is a wizard. One that had escaped from the British wizard prison called Azkaban in order to find me."

Petunia's regal face went pale at the freak's words. "I se-see," she mumbled out, her face going pale. "That… sounds terrible. And I can't imagine such an event could be categorized as good news."

Vernon growled under his breath as the warning bells in his mind began to chime more loudly. The boy was building towards something, and whatever it was would not be good for Vernon or his family. His wife rarely talked about such matters, but she had let slip one night that her gorgeous sister had often talked about magical things during their family mealtimes. So when Petunia's face had lost all colour at the mention of this 'Azkaban' place and Sirius Black Vernon knew that something bad was coming their way.

"Er, it's complicated," the boy continued. "Anyway, it also turns out that Sirius was a good friend of my parents. He met them when they were at Hogwarts together. And though I don't know if you were ever told, he also served as my father's best man at my parent's wedding. They even went so far as to make him my godfather."

At the mention of her sister's wedding Petunia's white face lost every remaining bit of colour. Her hands started to tremble and lowered her eyes to avoid the boy's gaze.

Meanwhile, Vernon snorted at the thought of how terrible _that_ wedding must have been. It did not surprise him in the least that James Potter, the insufferable boor, had chosen a convicted felon as his best man. The only thing the man had had going for him had been his smoking hot wife; such a shame that the woman had been born a freak. Petunia was truly fantastic in bed, but her looks did leave something to be desired.

"A-a-ah, y-y-yes. I, um, do remember something along those lines happening now that you mention it." She gulped nervously before continuing to speak. "Bu-but what does that have to do with your news? Even if he is your godfather, and he cares for you, the man is a convicted criminal that is being chased after by the police. S-surely you don't expect us to harbour him or something. Do you?"

"Not at all," Harry said as he shook his head. "It actually turns out that Sirius was never convicted in the first place. And it just so happens that just a few days ago, Professor Dumbledore and the magical equivalent of the police force launched an investigation which cleared my godfather of all charges. This means that Sirius is free with his rights and powers restored. Oh! And that his offer to have me come live with him is valid and will be pushed through the legal system in short order."

"Oh," was the only thing that came out of Petunia's mouth. The woman's eyes turned wide and she looked as though she might faint at any moment. "Well, that really is good news. Isn't it."

Harry's wide smile broadened even further, but Vernon cut him off. The boy was clearly stringing them along as he took sadistic pleasure from watching his aunt's reactions and Vernon had had enough. If the boy was going to leave, then jolly good for him. Vernon and Petunia would happily see him off. But if there was something more, as Vernon suspected, then it would be best to get it out into the open.

"Alright boy. You've had your fun at your aunt's expense with your little revelations," Vernon said with a grunt. He lifted a hand to his bushy moustache and began to stroke its mighty length, a tactic he had found to be effective in many a negotiation. "But I get the feeling that you've got a few more little surprises that we aren't going to like nearly so much as the news of your imminent departure. Just spit 'em out and stop pansy-footing around already."

The freak shot him an annoyed glance. "Fine. In that case let's move somewhere we can sit as we talk."

"Heh. That's the first smart thing you've said since coming back here, boy. Go on into the family room and grab a seat. Petunia and I will be along in a minute or too."

"Fine by me." Finished for the moment, the freak strode into the family room without sparing a look behind him.

Vernon levelled a glare at the boy's back as he left. After the boy was long out of sight, Vernon made his way over to his wife. The mother of his child looked as though she had seen better days, her slight frame braced against the wall next to the stairs as her small bosom heaved mightily. Panic was writ all over her features.

Petunia's eyes turned to him as he approached. "Vernon! What's going on here? What should we do? Do you think that the freak is telling the truth about Black? The news reports all agree that that psychopath might kill us if we look at him the wrong way!"

Vernon winced at her words. They poked him in his sore spot. As a powerful man and breadwinner for his home, the idea that some nerd with a stick could threaten him was utterly infuriating. But it was beyond his control, a fact which had been proven to him over the past few years and his encounters with the various magical adults Harry knew. So he did what he always did in situations where he was at a weaker position and could not change the situation. Which was to focus on the positive side of things, pretend that the negative side did not exist, and convince Petunia to follow his lead. Her vapid brain generally made it an easy task to accomplish.

If only she had been as beautiful as her sister. Then she would have made for the truly perfect wife.

"I don't know my little tulip, but don't you fret." Vernon said in a calm, comforting rumble that usually worked to soothe the excitable woman. "And I don't know how we would even go about confirming anything since it's all probably registered with _his_ kind. But I doubt that we're in any imminent danger."

"How could you possibly begin to say –"

"Because I doubt that the boy would lie about something like this, and the child lacks the stomach to sign off on anything like murder. He's as weak livered as his parents and the old man who dropped him on our doorstep, so anyone willing to take care of him will probably be cut from the same clothe." Vernon gave a deep harrumph as he continued to stroke his moustache. "Besides, think of it this way. If everything is as he said, then there really might be a chance for us to rid ourselves of that little freak once and for all!"

Petunia's eyes brightened at his words. "Yes. Yes! You're right! The freak just said that Black wanted to take him in. And if that happened, then the magic that the old coot placed on our house would be nullified. We wouldn't have to have anything to do with those abnormal freaks any more and we could finally leave this place! They'd never be able to find us if we moved somewhere else!"

Vernon hid a growl at his wife's words. The letter that Dumbledore had given them when dropping off the boy, where the old codger had mentioned something about tying some sort of magical protection into their blood and home, had been one of Vernon's go to excuses for not buying a new house. Changing that would put a serious strain on his finances and stop him from going on any 'business trips' for months afterwards. It took a large amount of money to keep young women happy nowadays and Vernon did not want to return to the days of two-bit whores he had been stuck with back when he and Petunia had first married.

Vernon took his wife gently by the shoulder and steered her towards the living room while he continued to focus her thoughts in the direction he wanted. "Possibly Petunia, but we'll need to wait and see first. The market could enter a downturn at any moment, and if we bought a new house at the wrong time then we could lose everything. Let's just focus on getting the freak out of the house first before we make any big financial decisions."

"Oh. Yes. Of course. Of course you're right. You're always right, my darling dearest." The woman seemed to calm down at last, her simple mind finding it easier to focus on their mundane content rather than her more existential fears of wizards and witches. "Getting the freak out of here and cleansing ourselves of his disgusting abilities is the most important thing we can do. We'd be much safer afterwards and could take our time before leaving."

"That's right my lovely tulip. Now go make us all something to drink. I think that some of your famous lemonade might help take the edge off of the coming discussion rather nicely. Especially if you could include a dollop or two of brandy in both of our glasses."

Petunia heeded Vernon's words and took off towards the kitchen. The sounds of the woman moving around within it as she quickly busied herself caused him to nod in satisfaction.

Petunia might be an excellent wife, but a genius she was not.

There would be moments in the future where he would not be able to distract her quite so easily, but he was confident in being able to deal with them when the time came. Of the two of them Vernon knew himself to be the smarter one, a fact he would show as he turned his mind to figuring out how he could bill this Black character for money owed from raising the freak for all these years. It's not like Dumbledore had ever paid them and raising a child was known to be expensive.

* * *

Petunia moved around the kitchen in a frenzy. One of the glasses she usually used to serve lemonade had a speck of dust on it, forcing her to clean all of them. She hated any sign of dirt on the best of days, and this was not even close to resembling such.

When she finally brought a tray laden with glasses out to serve she saw that Vernon was still lurking around the kitchen's entrance. The large man gave her a smile that hardly touched his small beady eyes, but that was okay. She might hate the man, but they were both united in their dislike of the freak. Knowing that he was in control of the situation made her feel better, pushing her worries from the forefront of her brain and helping her to think more clearly.

Petunia took a deep breath and followed him into the family room. Her sister's son had sat himself on one of her seats and seemed to be plucking lint off of the smart looking hand-me downs which had once belonged to her precious Duddykins. Petunia's mouth puckered as she watched him place it onto her couch. How _dare_ he bring in dirt into her clean home! The wretch was truly ungrateful for everything they had ever given him. She would show him!

The tray was set down on the table next to the boy with enough force to make him jump. He looked up, startled, and Petunia felt a vindictive surge of pleasure wash through her body. Feeling somewhat better, Petunia gave the boy her sweetest smile and chose to sit in a chair directly opposite of him. Vernon grabbed another chair from the corner and placed it close to hers.

After letting the silence sit for a moment, and watching the boy's eyes dart between them, Petunia cleared her throat with a gentle cough. "Well then… boy. Let's continue the conversation we were having earlier. I believe that you were about to mention something else. Am I correct?"

"Yes, you are." The disgusting freak had the gall to take a sip of his drink in between speaking. "But since I'd imagine that none of us really wants to be here talking about this, and I'd rather get started on writing to Remus and Professor Dumbledore about the muggle police issue, let me bottom line it for you so we can finish up quickly."

Vernon snorted. "Those're some fancy words right there, boy. Are you sure that you know what they mean?"

The freak rolled his eyes in response to Vernon. Petunia felt her fists tighten at the disrespectful gesture and gave the boy her best venomous glare.

"Witty banter aside, Uncle, the current situation is rather simple. I'll be leaving this house to go live with Sirius in a few weeks. Hopefully in as few as three, but maybe in as long as five. At that time I expect that we will part ways for good, never to see the others again. An event which should make all of us happy, right?"

Husband and wife shared a quick look. The boy's words were too good to be true. Petunia smelled a trap and knew that her husband did as well.

"Well, well, well. Now that _would_ be some happy news for everyone," Vernon said as he stroked his handsome moustache. "But something smells fishy, boy. There's got to be a catch to it."

The freak spread his filthy hands apart and smiled. "Of course there is a catch. But rather than telling you myself and possibly messing something up, I have a letter on me which details everything. Sirius and his friend Remus wrote it though there are a few other signatories attached to the bottom as well. And while I haven't read it myself I know the general gist of what it contains."

The boy reached into his back pocket and took out a crumpled envelope. He handed it over to Vernon, whose large and powerful hand ripped it out of the boy's feeble grasp as though it were a dangerous weapon.

Vernon's eyes scanned the document. As he did, Petunia watched his face undergo a number of changes.

At first her the man had his normal, healthy complexion. Then his eyes began to grow wide. His hands began to shake. And after a time his face went through a kaleidoscope of colours. One moment it was pale, another moment it was blue, and the next it was purple.

A pit began to form in Petunia's stomach as she watched. The confidence she had worked so hard to snatch back from her earlier fright began to disappear.

When he finished reading the letter her husband did not say a word. He merely handed the letter to Petunia before leaning back into his chair, his expression a mix of worry and dread.

Petunia felt her chest tighten at the sight. She gulped and began to read it. Soon it was all she could do to hold the letter steady with her trembling hands as the reason for her husband's pale complexion became clear with the very first line.

_**Dear Petunia and Vernon Dursley,**_

_**My name is Sirius Black and I have the great honour of being Harry's godfather. I am writing to inform you that it is my intention to see the boy taken from your deficient custody as soon as possible. But before that happens, I have been persuaded by a friend to give you a chance to save your miserable little lives from the vengeance that you so rightly deserve.**_

_**You see, I have recently been released from the wizard prison of Azkaban. It is a place of death, misery, and horror the likes of which your imaginations cannot even begin to comprehend. And while I had been innocent of any crime, and have since been given a full exoneration, I still spent nearly twelve years in that place. Which, as you might be able to imagine, happened to be populated by the most vicious of magical villains. All while being guarded by creatures who possessed the ability to devour the human soul.**_

_**So when I say that I am quite serious about making true should I threaten you with a fate worse than death – and on any other threats that I might make in the future – please trust that I am not making a joke regarding my name.**_

_**From what I have heard described by Harry and several of my associates who know him well, neither one of you have been kind to him. You have not raised him with the love and care that any child deserves. And you have failed to provide him with a level of support beyond that needed for a child to barely survive.**_

_**You have mocked him. Denigrated him. Treated him as a subhuman creature to be yelled at and neglected. You have failed to act as responsible guardians, instead giving in to the inner monster which dwells within each of us.**_

_**This will end. Immediately. And I expect to have the following list of actions followed to the letter prior to my arrival unless you wish to test the very, very limited patience of myself and my associates.**_

_**First: You will provide Harry with at least three full meals a day. They will be composed to his liking, be healthy, and contain nothing which could even remotely resemble poison.**_

_**Second: You will take care of his basic needs. This includes ensuring that he has clean clothes to wear, that his bed is nicely kept, that he has access to a clean bathroom at all hours, and that he is able to freely move around your house at any time.**_

_**Third: You will do your utmost to see that he has any items or materials he might wish to purchase. During his time at your place it will be you who are responsible for any purchase that he might request. He is not to spend so much as a Knut of his own savings.**_

_**And if I hear that you refused him for any reason – any reason at all – then you will find my patience tested.**_

_**Fourth: You must see to it that he does not want for anything. At all. If he wishes to go somewhere, then you will drive him. If he wants to eat in bed, then you will serve him as he has requested. Heck, if he wants to go to a whorehouse cinema on a week night then you will take him there even if you feel that doing so might damage your personal reputation.**_

_**I trust that I have made myself clear. Because if I find out that you have disregarded what I have written, or that you have gone against the spirit of what I have written, then you will be wiped off from the face of this planet with a speed that only magic can accomplish.**_

_**Faithfully Yours,**_

_**Sirius Orion Black, Heir to House Black, Godfather of Harry James Potter, and the Sexiest Bachelor Alive According to This Week's Edition of Witches Weekly**_

_**Additional Signatories: Remus Lupin, R. Hagrid, Minerva McGonagall, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, and Alastor Moody.**_

_**P.S.**_

_**This letter has been layered with several spells. One of which will cause the letter to burst into flame ten minutes after Vernon or Petunia Dursley first touch it.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

Smoke began to writhe from the thin sheet of paper shortly after Petunia reached the final line. In her shock she held onto it for too long; when the flames burst forth she was forced to fling the letter away with an ear piercing shriek. A shriek which only intensified when the burning letter fell onto her spotless carpet, scorching the polyester fibres and leaving them half melted by the time it vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Petunia's bony breast heaved as she drew in air. She looked from her trembling hands to Vernon, to the boy, and then back to her hands. Her mind was filled with a terror that she had not felt in years.

It was as though one of her worst nightmares had come to life. The freak that was her nephew had found another, older freak that wanted to take him in. And said freak happened to be an ex-convict who had cheerfully stated that he felt like murdering her entire family if she failed to abide by his torturous demands.

When she raised her head to look at her nephew Petunia nearly flinched. Because the emerald eyes that looked back at her reminded her far too much of Lily's. Usually so kind and warm, they were now filled with a hard iciness that made them resemble cut jewels.

Petunia could not bear to look into them and dropped her eyes to the floor. She folded her hands in her lap. And hated herself for what she was about to say.

"S-s-s-so, H-h-harry, i-i-i-if you would be s-s-s-so kind, then p-p-please let us know what we can d-d-d-do to make y-y-y-your summer enjoyable."

**A/N:** And that's a wrap! It came one chapter early (I moved the order of the chapters around to change the flow of things), but the Dursley chapter is finally here. I had to seriously water it down in order to make it publishable for this fics T rating; the original draft of this chapter went waaaaaay off of the deep end. Even with that being said I am probably toeing the rating line to the absolute limit. Hopefully I did not end up going over, because I don't want to make this story M rated just yet. Eventually, yes, but not at this point.

**A/N ****Addendum:** Another chapter down, another 2.5k words removed. Man am I thankful for the thousands of people who gave this story a read through in spite of the excess verbiage.

I'll eventually post an M rated 'what if' one-shot which is inspired by this chapter's original draft. It's already mostly complete, and all that's left to do is put it through 3 or 4 more edits and then time the release for best effect.

Updated on 1/26/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	14. Chapter 14: The Marauder's

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter 14: The Marauders**

It was a dark place where he found his master. The air was silent and filled with mist. The ground was covered in mulch and bones. The scent of rotting vegetation filled the air. It was a place no normal mortal could enter and expect to survive.

But Wormtail was no normal human. He was both a dark wizard and an animagus. And because of these dual traits he had accomplished what no other Death Eater had managed. Peter Pettigrew – the one ridiculed by friends and peers alike as being a cowardly and servile rodent – had been the one to find Lord Voldemort.

Not Lucius, surrounded by his plots and delusions of grandeur. Not Severus, who wore Dumbledore's collar tightly around his neck. Certainly not poor little Bellatrix, locked up in her prison cell. They and all the others had failed to locate their shared master, and so it was Wormtail who had received their master's dark blessing.

What made it even better was how pleased his master had been upon learning that Wormtail had not been idle during his long absence. The Dark Lord had been impressed with the information Wormtail had gathered from his time with the Weasley's and had complimented him on his initiative. Wormtail's chest had puffed up under his master's rarely given praise. Then the information in Wormtail's possession had been extracted directly from his mind through Legilimency, plundered by the Dark Shade without a moment's hesitation.

The process had been… excruciating.

But the pain had been worth it. His master had been overjoyed to learn about the many plans of his enemies and had declared that Wormtail would be rewarded beyond all others once the Dark Lord returned to power. Then the Shade had withdrawn in order to consider their next move, leaving Wormtail to fend for himself within this strange and dark forest. He had shifted into his rat form so as to avoid the probing eyes which lurked within the forest.

Supposedly, there were beings and powers which dwelt within this forest that even Wormtail's master respected. Entities that had given his master's Dark Shade shelter and whom the Dark Lord had gone to consult with as equals. This piece of knowledge had frightened Wormtail, far more so than when a Hag had nearly eaten him upon his arrival in the Albanian wilderness.

That there were beings whom even Lord Voldemort, the greatest Dark Lord since Grindenwald – perhaps the greatest Dark Lord _ever_ – felt comfortable addressing as an equal in this area was… disquieting. It made Wormtail feel smaller in a way that reminded him rather uncomfortably of how he had felt in his rat form when around that detestable feline Crookshanks. He tried to counter this feeling by thinking of the glorious future which would soon be within his grasp.

Wormtail would aid his master in whatever plan the Dark Lord constructed and watch his fellow Death Eaters would squirm in jealousy and fear at the favour which would be shown to him by the Dark Lord. For with that favour would come power. Power to do as he wished. To rule a land in his Lord's name, and to take revenge upon all who had wronged him.

It was a pity that James would not be able to join them, but Remus and Sirius would have to suffice.

As he daydreamed of his coming destiny Wormtail felt his body begin to grow cold. The air grew chill as sound seemed to fade away. What little light there was in the dim forest began to dim as the tingle of powerful Dark magic filled the air as Wormtail transformed back into human form so that he could drop to both knees in reverence. For the Dark presence in the air could mean only one thing.

That the Dark Lord's plan had been completed. And that no one, not even Dumbledore or Harry Potter, would be able to stop it.

* * *

It was a lovely summer day in the highlands of Scotland. A blast of warm sunlight illuminated the land with nary a cloud in sight, its bright rays lighting up the tapestry of rolling green hills for the world to see.

Upon a small section of flat ground sat a once beautiful three story manor. One side of it bordered a small forest of short trees, while the other three had brambles and nettles growing where once there had been beds of flowers and hedges. Often called a summer cottage by its ancient owners, the mansion was the smallest property belonging to Magical Britain's House of Black.

Dark grey walls of stone rose from the ground to tower above the surroundings. Great glass windows covered the first floor, with more modestly sized ones adorning the second and third floors. A pair of intimidating wooden doors, bound in wrought iron, barred entrance to its halls, with smaller doors constructed in similar fashion denoting the auxiliary entrances.

An old dirt pathway stretched out from the main entrance and into the distance. If one were to follow its length they would find that it eventually joined up with one of the muggle roads, although it had only rarely been put to use in the past. The House of Black had valued its privacy long before it was vogue to do so amongst magical folk; the anti-muggle, privacy, and related concealment spells surrounding it had been laid down centuries ago and its defensive wards were the best that money could buy.

A second, smaller pathway paved with white flagstones stretched behind the building and wound its way to a nearby lake. The lake's crystal clear depths sparkled in the sunlight and a copse of fruit trees edged up on its southern side. An old gazebo in dire need of maintenance sat several yards away, as if waiting for people to one day return to it.

The cottage and its surroundings were both peaceful and calm. The air was filled with the songs of birds as the fluffy forms of bunnies darted through the untrimmed bushes and trees which surrounded the ancient house. A muggle who stumbled across it could easily think that it was an idyllic paradise gone fallow. But any wizard or witch who knew about the building's previous owners would know to be wary. For the Blacks had been steeped in Dark Magic for centuries and had filled their homes with all manner of monstrosities.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had known of this before they had arrived at the location. Armed with their wands and their wits, the men two had been expecting to find all manner of Dark artefacts and poisonous vegetation. Or hallways laden with trap wards, with carved runic circles set in the floors to harm the unwary. Perhaps even a shackled magical beast or three, driven insane by a desire to feed on human flesh that had not been sated for years.

They had ruled out three other Black family properties for those very same reasons, including the one in which Sirius had grown up in London. The spells at that particular property had been so potent that it would probably require Dumbledore's personal intervention to make the place safe for human habitation; even Gringotts, well known for its small army of professional curse breakers, had wanted nothing to do with it unless Sirius would agree to bind his house and closest relatives in servitude to them for the next three centuries. Terms that the dark-haired wizard had staunchly refused.

With that the matter of the residence at Grimmauld Place was put aside to deal with on another day. The other two places had been contracted to be cleansed through Gringotts for a more reasonable price, but had yet to be secured. Much to their embarrassment and ire, the local curse breakers employed by the Goblins had proven inadequate to the task at hand. A team of more experienced curse breakers were being brought in from Egypt at no further expense, but their arrival was not for another week.

In the meantime Sirius and Remus, who needed a place where they could stay and bring Harry to live with them, had settled their hopes on this remote homestead located in the Scottish Highlands. Their initial survey of the place had set off far fewer Dark Magic detection spells and the two wizards felt confident that they could secure and fix up the place on their own. A day after the contracts with Gringotts had been signed, two wizards had eagerly thrown themselves into cleansing this abode of anything its former owners had left behind.

Boggarts were laughed at, pixies were stupefied, and a rather large Acromantula was removed from the Master Bedroom. The thing had been twice the size of Hagrid, and judging from the egg sacs in the room the creature had been in the process of starting up a new brood. Which would have been an ecological disaster, as Hogwarts was only able to manage its own brood thanks to the Centaur's constant pruning.

Yet all things considered the removal process had been going rather well. Sirius had only caused three fires of any note, they had managed to disarm the various traps installed throughout the corridors and chambers, and Remus had suffered only a blackened eye from when Sirius had jerked backwards to avoid the Acromantula's initial attack and had shoved his elbow into Remus' face. Their good progress had filled the two men with a glowing sense of pride.

Then they had decided to investigate the basement. A decision they had come to regret.

Sirius screamed at the top of his lungs as he and Remus fled up a flight of stairs as quickly as possible. The chattering voices of tiny creatures rose in pitch behind him; he could hear the patter of their teeny feet. The two wizards increased their speed as they lunged for the door in their haste to escape.

The two men rolled through it in a tumbling tangle of limbs. Each swore at the other as they fought to untangle themselves before their assailants could make it through the open portal behind them.

It was Remus who first managed to regain his footing. He leaped up and slammed the door shut. The sturdy oaken wood slammed shut with a thunderous boom that shook loose a layer of dust from the ceiling. Remus stood facing the door, his breath coming in heaving pants as he cast silent spells of warding and closure upon its frame as quickly as he could manage.

Only when he was certain that it would hold against an assault did the werewolf turn towards his oldest friend and glare. His eyes flashed yellow, the man's lupine affliction showing through due to his agitation.

"Dammit Sirius! I _told_ you not to use that spell. I _told_ you that your wand was too new and that you hadn't finished bonding with it yet." Remus lifted a shaking finger to point it at the dark-haired wizard still splayed out on the floor. "But what did you do? Did you listen to me? Of course not! _You cast the goddamn spell anyway_, _and now __look__at __what __has __happened__!_"

From his spot on the floor Sirius Orion Black, Heir to the House of Black, Animagus extraordinaire, the only person to ever escape the dreaded prison of Azkaban and all around ladies man… shrugged. He put a roguish smile on his handsome face as his chest continued to heave from the unanticipated exertion. His lungs burned from the effort of fighting and running for so long.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied several seconds later upon catching his breath. "You've got me there, Moony… but you've also got to admit that it sure was fun. Right?"

"I don't have to admit to anything, _Padfoot_," Remus replied with a snort. "Being chased by a bunch of enraged Erklings with only an ugly bloke like you for company is _not_ my idea of fun on a Saturday afternoon. I'd never seen one until today, but I can see the resemblance to House Elves that the defence books talk about."

"Just wait until you meet Kreacher. Those things looked as if they could have been his bastard offspring. Morgana knows that they have his temper and sense of hospitality."

Remus rubbed a tired hand through his greying brown hair as he waved off Sirius' reply. Sirius had briefly mentioned the old Black family House Elf when they had been searching through the family's listed properties. But as the House Elf resided in the one residence the man refused to enter, and had refused to heed Sirius' call otherwise, Remus had yet to meet the strange sounding creature.

The werewolf gave a smirk as his eyes fell upon Sirius once again. "I do have to admit, though, that seeing you splayed out on your arse while gasping for air certainly has a nostalgic feel to it. It reminds me of all the times that one of your ideas for a prank went terribly wrong, forcing us to run away for our lives before either McGonagall or Filch caught us."

Sirius grumbled at the reminder of those days. "My ideas never went wrong. _Ever_. Each and every one of them was perfect; a masterpiece of pranking that Hogwarts had never seen before or since. It was _your _execution of said ideas which left something to be desired!"

"My _execution_, Sirius, was generally the only thing that saved our arses from getting kicked out!"

"Psh. As if! That excuse was lame before we had even left the school; trotting it out now won't save your sorry hide any better than it did back then." Sirius chose to flail an arm in Remus' general direction, the exchange having exhausted what little stamina he had managed to regain. "Now help me up already. I'm tired, and my legs feel like they were hit by a jelly-legs curse for six hours straight like we did to Severus back in third year."

"Hm… nope. I feel like I should go check the other entrances to the cellar area to make sure that all of those little demons you just pissed off don't escape. You're on your own, mate."

True to his words, the former Marauder turned respectable Hogwarts professor turned on his heels and made his way towards another section of the house.

"Wuss," Sirius muttered as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Moron," came Remus' immediate reply.

"Idiot."

"Pureblood."

"Grumpypants."

"Man child."

"Spoilsport."

"Pansy."

"Hey!" Sirius bellowed in mock anger as he tried to stand on two legs that still felt rather shaky. "Take that one back. I am NOT Parkinson's daughter."

"Could have fooled me," Remus said, the smirk in his voice obvious even as he turned around a corner and went out of sight. "Or on second thought, you're right Sirius. Even Pansy Parkinson could have done better down there than you did. I would know. After all, I _did_ teach her all of last year on how to deal with Dark magical creatures."

Sirius winced at the words. Remus' surprise rebuttal had just scored a mortal blow in this fight of words.

"C'mon Moony, don't be so harsh to your old friend," Sirius whined as he followed his friend out of the room. The cellar door they had used was located just off of the Cottage's kitchen and only a few steps from an auxiliary entrance to the building. Remus was heading towards it at full speed. "The girl's got to be, what, thirteen years old? Fourteen at most. And she's probably inbred to boot, which means she's probably not the brightest."

"Sounds about right," Remus said with the smirk still firmly entrenched in his voice. The werewolf opened the kitchen door to step outside into the sunny fresh air. "But considering that you are probably her cousin in, oh, seven different ways and that you have the emotional intelligence of a teenager even at the age of thirty-four… well, you're only proving my point for me."

Remus gave a soft chuckle and turned to look at his friend with unconcealed mirth in his eyes. This round went to him and Sirius knew it. All Sirius could do at this point was to fall quiet and mumble about revenge under his breath as his friend proceeded to spell the cellar entrance located just outside the auxiliary entrance.

This sort of argument was nothing new to the two old friends. It had started back when they were younger than Harry and had followed them into adulthood. But the arguments had generally gone much better for Sirius when James had still been alive. The many times both men had ganged up on Remus to beat back that particular argument during their Hogwarts years were beyond count.

A wave of nostalgia swept through Sirius as he recalled some of the memories. Those had been good times. Times spent with good friends and gorgeous women. The good times had even continued after Lily had joined their little group in sixth year, though the combination of her and Remus had often proven too great for Sirius and James to handle. They had mourned their defeats over a tankard of good ale more than once, laughing away as they plotted their comebacks. Most of which had resulted in yet more failures, only to be followed by more laughter over new mugs of ale.

It had been a wonderful cycle that should have continued without to the current day. But those days were well past. A sad truth that Sirius had to forcefully remind himself as he took a moment to rest against the cottage's stone wall. James and Lily were long gone, and trying to pretend otherwise would not be healthy. The Healers at St. Mungos had already told him that he faced a long enough list of issues as it were. The healers had been two parts impressed and one part terrified when Sirius had told them about some of what he had endured and seen as a child.

Dark Arts Rituals designed to change the human body. Spells to inflict pain for the amusement of his mother or another adult member of the family. Punishments that included standing naked for hours in a dark room filled with stinging insects, or being buried up to his neck in pools of blood taken from the bodies of murdered magical creatures.

As for the straw that had finally broken his proverbial back and made him leave… Sirius doubted that he would ever tell anyone about that particular event. He had brokenly cried upon Fleamont Potter's shoulder while recounting the tale. James' father had spent the rest of the summer piecing Sirius' spirit back together as he fought to wrest legal control of the young man from his demented family. These many years later Sirius considered the matter to be closed.

For he was_ Sirius Orion Black!_ The most handsome and debonair wizard alive, skilled with a wand and masterful with the ladies. No amount of family issues or dark baggage in his past would get in his way for long. There were things he needed to do and people he needed to be with, all of which had twelve years of time he needed to make up for missing. So as he watched Remus finish sealing up the outside cellar entrance with another barrage of spells, Sirius started to think and come up with a plan.

Maybe Remus had been right. Maybe Sirius should not have tried to go for a flashy spell so soon and should have just handled things by the book. Doing things slowly and securely had been drilled into him during his time as an Auror; some of Moody's words on the subject were still floating around Sirius' skull, yammering that continuing down this path was likely to get him killed.

It was just that, being the super awesome wizard that Sirius knew himself to be, a wide-range stupefy was something that was easily within his ability to cast. Or it should have been, as it had been a spell Sirius had learned shortly after leaving Hogwarts. Remus' protestations otherwise – even if they had been proven well founded in this case – were just born from the man's bizarre sense of caution and desire to handle Sirius with kid gloves.

But what Remus did not understand is that Sirius to shake the rust off of his awesome skills before Harry came to live with them. Because Harry _needed_ to see Sirius as the master of awesome. The sultan of cool. The lord of fun and everything dangerous. Anything less than that would be a failure to James' memory and Sirius had already done enough of that to last for three lifetimes.

So, in order to counter the inevitable lecture coming his way once Remus was done with the other entrances, Sirius took action. After making a few mental tweaks to the healer approved training routine he had come up with in order to get himself back in shape – one that he hoped Harry would join shortly after arriving – Sirius left Remus to his own devices and ran back into the house.

There he penned a letter which he tied to the leg of a tiny little owl he had purchased the day before. It was a short letter, filled with flowery language that the recipient was likely to enjoy, and was kept purposefully light on details. Sirius wanted to entice the person to come, but do so in such a way that it sounded like he was requesting the pleasure of their company instead of using them to shield himself from his friend's justified wrath.

Sirius Black might have lost a step or two when it came to combat, but he could still screw with the heads of his friends and loved ones like no one else.

* * *

The next day was not nearly so pleasant as the one before. Dark, brooding clouds gathered overhead as a gentle rain fell upon the Cottage. A stillness lay upon the land as though it had been lulled to slumber by the water's gentle caress.

A loud crack rang through the air and shattered the peaceful atmosphere. Two figures appeared on the dirt path as if from thin air, their features obscured by a pair of travel cloaks. Both were quite tall and moved with a casual grace. Two wands clasped in gloved hands flowed from their sleeves and scanned the immediate area. Finding nothing of note, their gender soon became apparent when one of the two cast a spell to repel water. Safe from the rain, the individual flung their cloak off of their shoulders as she looked around with an air of annoyance.

"But muuuum. Why do I have to come with you to go visit some stupid old family member? It's not like we get really along with any of your family anyway." The speaker, a young woman with bubblegum pink-hair cropped stylishly short, grumbled aloud as the figure next to her began to walk towards the cottage. "He's probably just some snotty Pureblood like the rest of them. And even if he wasn't like that back when you still knew him, being stuck in Azkaban probably sucked all of the fun out of him anyway."

The unhappy girl kicked a nearby rock as she spoke, the small stone flying into the short grass as she began to mutter curses under her breath. She wore a smart combo of tunic and pants that would have fit in with either Muggles or Magic Folk. Dark brown eyes filled with a hint of bored mischief bore into the figure at her side.

Having put away her own cloak, Andromeda Tonks' dark brown hair hung in soft curls around her shoulders, perfectly accenting her fashionably cut robes of dark green. She did her best to contain a sigh at her daughter's complaints.

"Watch your language, Nymphadora. Sirius is a dear relative who is most assuredly unlike any member of our family you have ever met." Andromeda said smoothly, her cultured voice perfect in its elocution. Her hawk eyed gaze swivelled across the Cottage's property, taking in everything within sight without pausing her steps. "Besides, your aunt Narcissa would be terribly hurt to hear you say that. You know how she enjoys seeing you."

The young woman gave an unladylike snort. "Uh huh. Then please explain to me why our last visit ended with her snot-nosed son and toad of a husband insulting us to the point that you nearly hexed the pair of them in the middle of Diagon Alley. And for the last time, mum, _don't call me by that name!_"

"My dear, I will call you what I wish; that is your given name and it is quite beautiful. You should not be ashamed of it. And you know that Narcissa is not to blame for what happened that day. She did not join in on their boorish display and can hardly be held accountable for Lucius and Draco's ugly personalities."

"Yeah, 'cause sitting quietly by as the two of them hurled derogatory insults at her sister and niece was sooooo much better. That really gave her the moral high ground and all." Another snort left her flared nostrils as the young woman gave her light brown wand a fancy flourish. "It's times like that which make me happy that you eloped with dad. If I'd had to deal with Pureblood nonsense like that growing up then I might have gone madder than Mad Eye!"

The older woman's lips curved into a small smile. Brilliant and gifted though she may be, her daughter still had a great deal left to learn. "Nymphadora, if you think that Alastor truly _is_ mad, then you have a _very_ long way to go in your Auror training. The man is as wily as they come and has defeated more dark wizards than even Dumbledore for a multitude of very good reasons."

Andromeda took a deep breath and smoothed the front her robes. "But enough of that. It is time to introduce yourself to Sirius and his friend Remus. I expect you to comport yourself with the requisite dignity and not to bring any shame upon my raising of you. Am I understood?"

Nymphadora idly waved a hand in response. "Yeah, yeah. I might not like any of it, but I actually _do_ remember all of that mumbo jumbo Pureblood nonsense you taught me over the years." The young woman put a cheerful smile on her face. "Let's just get this over with quickly so I can get out in time to meet my friends at the pub. Hestia told me that Dawlish somehow managed to piss off Moody yesterday and got forced to scrub the department's bathroom with a muggle toothbrush! I can't wait to hear the story about what actually happened, because Moody's punishments are _never_ as simple as they sound."

Shaking her head with a sigh – some days she feared that her daughter would never grow up – Andromeda strode up to the front of the large wooden door. She moved her light brown wand towards it and gently tapped it against the wooden planks; a feeling far warmer than that of the last time she had come to this particular domicile washed over Andromeda's body as her magic intermingled with the potent wards of the house in order to properly announce her presence to their owner.

A faint sound of running footsteps was soon audible. Loud male voices raised in argument with one another shortly followed, growing louder as the owner's voices came closer. Sharp bangs rang out and multi-coloured light flashed in the windows. Then the front door slammed open with a bang to reveal a dark-haired man with a wild-eyed expression on his face.

"Andromeda! By Merlin's beard am I glad to see you! The damn devils found a way out through the pantry and are rampaging through the house!" A muffled bang rang out behind him, followed by the meaty thud of a body hitting a wall. "Remus and I can hold 'em off, but we need a third wand to put 'em down for good."

Andromeda smiled fondly as she looked him over. It had been over a decade since she had last set eyes upon Sirius, but he was still just the same as ever. Older, yes, and prematurely aged by his time spent in Azkaban, but seeming to be just as handsome and spirited as he had in their youth. It was a pleasant sight that reminded her of the better parts of her childhood. Before she had met her beloved Ted, Sirius had been the only male in whom Andromeda could confide. The two of them had helped each other to survive the House of Black as children and had come out stronger for it.

Still, the man's bad habit for skimping on details seemed to have remained in full order along with his charming personality. Andromeda's warm smile turned wry as she considered the fact that her presence had been requested for reasons the irrepressible man before her had failed to specify.

"Ah, Sirius, it is good to see that some things never change. And while it does break with tradition, I suppose that we can place the formal greetings on hold until after your latest mess has been sorted." Andromeda looked over to her daughter. "Nymphadora, if you would be so kind, please assist your cousin and his friend Remus in removing the creatures currently inhabiting this abode. Considering our family's proclivities I believe they will be rather Dark in nature; fighting them should serve as excellent training for your future career."

"What? Hold on a moment!" Sirius yelled in glee as he fixed his eyes on the younger woman. "_That's_ little Nymphadora? Man has she turned into a looker while I've been away."

"Yes she has, Sirius. But she is too young for you, so it is best that you not get any ideas."

"I don't know what you're talking about, 'Dromeda. Besides, we both know that I'm into older women anyway."

"Considering that you hold the mentality of a schoolboy and that any woman over the age of ten could be considered your mental elder, my worries have not been assuaged in the slightest."

"_What?_ I'll have you know that…"

A roar came from deeper within the cottage, followed by what sounded like a horde of tiny feet. The burst of noise was soon followed by a rough, white hand abruptly coming into sight. The hand grabbed onto Sirius' closest shoulder, grabbed a fistful of his stylish silk shirt, and ripped the man out of view.

"Goddamnit Sirius, stop flirting with your cousin and help me clean up your damn mess already!" An enraged male voice yelled.

"Shut it Moony!" Sirius yelled back as he was dragged away kicking and punching. "She and her daughter are gorgeous, and given that the prettiest woman I've seen in the past twelve years was Minerva – who _still_ gives me goosebumps whenever she glares at me – there's no way in hell I'm following you back inside anytime soon."

"Too bad for you, prat, because you don't have a choice in the matter. Besides, I'm not going to let you commit incest with either one of them. Not on my watch."

"It's fine, man, you don't have to worry about a thing. 'Dromeda is only my third cousin so it's all good legally, while cute little Nymphadora there had a muggleborn dad, which means there's no worry there either."

"The next person who calls me _Nymphadora_ is going to get a wand shoved so far up their arse that it's going to take Dumbledore himself to get it back out!"

"Awww… is my cute little niece angry at her name? Don't worry, give your uncle Sirius a hug and I'll make it all better."

"Argh! Stop antagonizing the girl, Sirius, and start casting, 'cause here they come!"

Booms and bangs rang out as the two men shouted out spells while continuing to argue. The hiss of spellfire filled the air as what sounded like high pitched war cries rose to meet it.

A visibly puzzled Nymphadora Tonks scratched her head in confusion as she turned to face her mother. "Mum, what the _hell_ just happened?"

Andromeda gave her daughter the ghost of a smile. "That, my dear daughter, was your cousin Sirius and his old friend Remus. It would also appear that not even a decade spent in Azkaban could destroy his irrepressible and charming nature. Nor the fact that he has the maturity of a man half his age."

"Yeah… sure. What you call charming I'd call creepy, mum."

"Oh hush dear. It will grow on you over time." Andromeda Tonks took off her silken gloves as she stepped into the house and set about cleaning and fixing broken objects with waves of her wand. "Now, if you would be so kind, please do go and give the two boys a hand. Remus is a more than competent wizard, but Sirius is still recovering from his rather long stint in prison. And judging from the sound of things, sort of creature infestation has grown rather bad in the long absence of anyone living here."

Nymphadora gave her mother a hard stare before nodding her head and trudging off, muttering under her breath about terrible family members and missing out on all of the fun.

Andromeda shook her head and continued to repair the broken house. Knowing her daughter's penchant for mischief, Nymphadora would soon form a fast friendship with Sirius and his friend Remus. What might become of such a friendship, and whether it would be good or bad, was for the future to decide. But in the year since her Ted had died this was the first time Andromeda had felt quite so happy. To have her missing family member back in her life again could finally help her heal her broken heart.

Besides, so long as they both knew better than to ply their talents upon her, watching Sirius and Andromeda working together could prove to be rather entertaining.

* * *

Sirius batted Remus' hand away from his shirt collar with an angry growl. Trying to cast spells while the other man dragged him along the floor was nearly impossible, and Sirius was getting sick of having to kick and swat the little blighters off his legs.

One of the blasted Erklings took that as a sign to attack; the little bugger barrelled into him with a furious howl before Sirius could stand. Its slim limbs tore at his nicely pressed shirt, ripping the expensive silken material with every swipe.

Alas, the poor creature was no match for an infuriated Sirius Black. Sirius took his wand out and sent the offensive creature flying into the next century with a modified blasting hex. Its body sailed out of sight, soaring over the heads of seven more of its brethren as they emerged from the shadows and let out their own howls of anger.

Sirius and Remus took turns stunning, blasting, and otherwise disabling the tiny monstrosities. The creatures generally took several shots to put down, though, and the two wizards were soon in danger of being overwhelmed. Sirius really had lost more than one step during his incarceration in Azkaban and, although the werewolf had only grown better at spellcasting in Sirius' time away, Remus was not able to make up the difference. The two men began to retreat when a new voice reached their ears through the cacophony of noise.

"Wotcher boys! Shift your rears over so a gal can join in on the fun."

The two men cast a look behind them and saw Andromeda's pink-haired daughter glaring at them as she twirled her wand between her fingers. Remus gave a grunt and shifted his attention away from her, seemingly ignoring the cocksure girl in favour of concentrating on a trio of Erklings who had decided to gang rush him.

Ah well, it's not like the werewolf would have known what to do with a pretty young girl anyway. Or even a nice looking older gal. Or any girl at all, really. Women had always been Sirius' department.

"C'mon over here lass, there's plenty of work for all of us," Sirius said with a grin. His effort at being charming was no doubt hampered by his torn shirt, but Sirius had never let something small like that get in his way before. "Think you can hold your own against the stupid little blighters?"

The girl shot him a condescending look in response. Then, with a flash of her fingers that actually managed to impress him, the young woman let loose two quick hexes which downed one of the Erklings that had flung itself at Remus from a nearby chandelier. "Moody made us train against a small nest of these guys two months ago. So yeah, I think that I can handle myself fairly well."

Sirius gave an admiring whistle as he turned his attention back to the fight. "Moody, eh? Good 'ol Mad Eye himself. I'm surprised to hear that the old coot hasn't retired yet; kudos to him for staying on active duty this long. And since you mentioned that he's been training you, can I assume that you're one of this year's Auror hopefuls?"

"You could bet yer arse on that, old timer. He's actually been thinking of retiring in a few years, but before he goes he's looking to select one final apprentice to train. Myself and a few of the other trainees are all vying for the spot."

"Hm. Britain just won't be the same without him on the beat; no one alive can get into the heads of a Dark witch or wizard like that man. And hey! I'll have you know that I'm not _that_ old; I've gotta have, like, ten years on you tops."

"Try fifteen, cousin. Mum said that you're five years younger than her, which puts you at thirty-four. And since I'm a fresh nineteen years of age, that in turn means there's fifteen years between us. Which makes you an old fogy while I'm still a young and vivacious woman, kicking ass and taking the world by storm."

Remus chuckled at the girl's retort. "Nicely said young lady. Sirius never really grew up even after we left Hogwarts and he sometimes seems to forget that his body isn't as spry as it once was."

"Ooh, don't tell, but did he try and get it up with a lady only for it to flop around? 'Cause I've heard that can happen to older men."

A spluttering Sirius butted in on their increasingly terrible conversation. "Hey! Both of you can shove off. First of all, Remus, I'll have you know that I am _way_ more mature than you'll ever be. Second of all, Nym –"

"Call me either Dora or Tonks, cousin. Otherwise I _will_ castrate you and leave you here to fight these things on your own before you can finish getting the rest of the words out of your mouth."

A bead of sweat tumbled down the back of Sirius' neck at the young woman's words. For all his bluster on the subject Sirius really did know his way around women. And that too sweet tone the girl had just used, coupled with her disturbing threat, indicated that she was all too serious about going through with it.

"Uh, yeah. Sure thing Dora." Sometimes discretion was the better part of valour. "Anyway, I have _never_ had that problem and never will. Sirius Black knows how to please the ladies and _never_ fails to show them a good time. That was true back when I was teenager, was true when I became the most badass Auror this side of Mad Eye, and it sure as hell remains true even to today."

Dora and Remus shared a look. Then the two of them laughed at the same time, deepening Sirius' scowl as it was most certainly a laugh at his expense.

"I don't know, Remus; sounds to me like someone is starting to get a mite defensive here."

"I would concur miss Dora. His words might have sounded strong, but his tone rang hollow to me."

"Oh whatever. Just fuck off already and start taking these things out." Sirius growled in annoyance. He suited actions to words and aimed a few hexes at two Erklings that were charging from the rear. "Why is it that I'm the only one trying to be serious?"

"Because it's your name?" Dora helpfully suggested.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny. That little joke's going to earn you a special kind of revenge. _I'm_ the only one who gets to use my name as a pun."

"Good to know, but consider this little exchange my own form of revenge for using _my_ name without _my_ permission. The only person who gets to use my full name without me hexing them will be the man or woman I decide to marry, and that ain't going to be you, cousin." The young lady punctuated her words by downing a quartet of Erklings attempting a flanking manoeuvrer. "Since it's our first time meeting as adults and all, well, I'm giving you a light sentencing this time around. But test my patience again and I'll make sure to use you as a test dummy for Moody's latest practical assignment. Got it?"

Taking advantage of a momentary lull as the creatures began to retreat back into the basement from whence they originally came, Sirius eyed his young cousin speculatively. The young woman was completely different than her mother. If he had to put a finger on it he would have to say that Dora reminded him of a younger, less insane Bellatrix. A thought which caused him to shudder, for if Dora were _anything_ like that formidable witch then Sirius knew better than to test her patience.

This time would be his loss. But Sirius would learn her rules of engagement sooner or later, rules that every woman – regardless of age – had and operated by. Once he did he would flip the tables on her and have his revenge in full. For he was Sirius Black. And no one got the better of him in a verbal exchange like this without receiving some form of revenge in the future.

"Fair enough," Sirius said as he concealed his thoughts with a charming grin. "In that case let's stop the witty banter and finish things up. If we take too long and make your mum wait, she'll take her anger out on the three of us. And _that_ won't end well for anyone."

Dora shuddered and nodded her head.

"Good point." The young woman quickly moved to take the lead. "Ladies first then. Try to not to fall behind or get too distracted while staring at my tight arse you old pervs."

**A/N:** Three days later and bam! A second release. This chapter was actually intended to go in front of the previous chapter and was fairly close to completion when I made the switch between them.

I hope that you liked my take on the guy and gals of House Black. I tried to picture it as a 'what could possibly go wrong with a reunion/first impression' sort of scene and decided to have some fun with it. For those who don't know what an Erkling is and want to know more, look it up on the HP fandom site. It's an amusing – though short – read.

Meanwhile, Wormtail has met up with the Dark Lord and things are being put into motion within the shadows. I've given Harry a powerful tool in the Game of Death, so you had best expect said tool to be needed XD. Because weak villains who get curb stomped all story long are boring.

The next chapter will focus on Hermione and Ginny, and will also feature Harry's third confirmed lady love at the chapter's end. But as a friendly reminder, it will also be the last update for some time while I work on getting my chapter buffer back up to snuff. I'd guesstimate about a month, or four at the longest, will suffice; it all depends on my muse staying active and everyday life holding back on pelting me with some of its curveballs.

Updated on 1/28/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	15. Chapter 15: The First Three Flowers

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Fifteen: The First Three Flowers**

Ginny sighed to herself as she stared at her ceiling. Made from unvarnished wood their age stained planks were as familiar to her as the back of her own hand. Between the events of her first year and a desire to avoid the often raucous nature of her rather large family, Ginny had spent more time staring at it than she would care to admit.

Her eyes flicked over to the Holyhead Harpies calendar set on the wall across from her bed. By habit she counted the number of days since she had returned home.

It had been three weeks since she had left Hogwarts. Three weeks since she had gone to classes, and three weeks since she had been surrounded by people of her own age.

But most importantly, it had been three weeks since she had last seen Harry Potter.

"Urgh!" Ginny groaned as she rolled over onto her stomach. She shoved her face into a lumpy pillow and screamed into it. "Why do I feel like this? _Why can't I get him out of my head?_"

But it was a moot question, born out of frustrations with things no longer under her control. Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley, only daughter and youngest child of seven, was hopelessly in love with Harry Potter.

Two years ago this sort of feeling would not have bothered Ginny. If someone had told her back then that she would be near _the_ Harry Potter at school, that she would see him nearly every day and be able to talk to him without stuttering or blushing like the sun, then Ginny's past self would have squealed at the top of her lungs and as she jumped for joy. But that Ginny had been young. She had been innocent and naive as to the dark things which lurked within the world around her.

The Ginny of today was no longer the Ginny of two years past. She was a Ginny who had lived through being possessed by a shade of Lord Voldemort himself. A girl who had both her her mind _and_ her body controlled by a dark, evil entity for hours on end. One that had nearly caused her to _murder_ a number of her fellow students.

Gone was the young girl who had doodled hearts on stick figure drawings of herself and Harry in her hand-me-down Charms book. Gone was the girl who had poured her aching heart into an intelligent Diary that had whispered sweet words of poison into her ears. That girl had died in the Chamber of Secrets, buried with the torn pages of the lying journal that had tormented her.

In her place was born a new girl, one who was unsure of herself and everything around her.

It had only been thanks to the help of Ginny's loving family, the medical professionals at St. Mungo's, and her best friend Luna Lovegood that the young red-headed girl had made it through the summer. Her mother and father had showered her with attention, with her father even taking a week off from his work to spend time with her. It had been the most time she had spent with him in her entire life, as nearly all of his attention that week had been directed solely towards her. Having both her father and her mother around had helped soothe some of Ginny's lingering pain in a way that only a parents love could.

Her bizarre but well meaning trio of brothers in Fred, George, and Ron had been appreciated, but their attempts to console or cheer her had been ham fisted at best. Ron had kept trying to challenge her to chess matches for the first time in almost five years, an activity in which she had less than zero interest. Meanwhile, the twins had decided that using Ron as an unwilling test subject for their joke ideas – and parading him around in front of her afterwards – would be their contribution to her recovery. It had actually been rather amusing for the first week, but by the time the second week came along poor Ron had begun to look so miserable that it had lost all semblance of fun.

Travelling to see her brother Bill in Egypt had been an incredible event. After her parents had put aside some of the contest money for the future, the announcement that they would be taking the rest of the kids still at home on a trip abroad had come as a shock. Packing had been done in a whirlwind of clothes and chaos, and her mother had nearly left the Twins behind with Auntie Muriel until the two miscreants had emptied their suitcase of anything related to practical jokes. But in the end the entire family had found itself on its way with all members present.

Immediately after arriving in Egypt via a Ministry issued international portkey – provided free of charge thanks to her father's status as a ministry employee – Ginny had found herself swept off of her feet and into a crushing hug. Bill had wasted no time in letting her know how thankful he was that she was safe and had promised to give her the best vacation that anyone could ever have. And even though he had been unable to sneak her into any of the really cool cursed tombs thanks to her mother's ever watchful eye, Ginny had to admit that she had really enjoyed herself. Meeting his latest boyfriend – a nice local boy by the name of Omari – had just been the icing on the cake.

Unable to come home, Charlie had sent her letters every other day. Poorly written and smeared with soot, his old Hogwarts professors would have probably given him a T for composition. Yet each one was as wild and fun as the man himself. Each letter had contained some obscure fact of dragon knowledge he was discovering in his job or had a companion envelope attached with things like old dragon's teeth and claws that made Ginny's eyes sparkle to see. The letters and envelopes gave her a connection to a place which had nothing to do with Britain or Dark Lords, and each one had managed to brighten her day.

It had been after her return from Egypt that something changed within her. Something that had been buried deep had risen up and fought against that treatment. Yelling out loud and clear that, while she had been hurt, she had also _survived_. That this was only the beginning of things and that she would grow _stronger_ for it.

Since then Ginny had started to take control of her life. When her mother had stated that Ginny could stay at the house while she picked up Ginny's supplies with Ron and the rest, Ginny had put her foot down for the first time in her life. She had _demanded_ that she be allowed to go and refused to be persuaded otherwise. She was not a porcelain doll in danger of breaking; she was a young woman, one who was determined to grow stronger, and getting the supplies she needed for the upcoming year represented the first step towards that goal.

Luna had come over the very next day. And when she had seen Ginny's face the little blonde had given the widest smile Ginny had ever seen on her friend's face. Without even saying a word, Luna had known that she was on the path to becoming herself once again. Or as Luna put it, 'a new self, free of the Flittlimpers that had been sucking the positive juju out of' her pretty red head.'

Ginny had not quite known what to say about that – she hardly ever did whenever Luna talked about exotic creatures – but had been pleased by the sentiment nonetheless. It was a warm feeling, and Ginny had given the tiny blonde girl a fierce hug in reply which Luna had returned with gusto.

Filled with a newborn confidence in herself Ginny had attacked her books with a passion and finished her summer assignments within a week. From that point on, the young girl had practised her spells at every possible opportunity. Thankfully, the underage trace did not work at registered Wizarding Households and Ginny had been able to reach the point she should have been at by the end of her first year.

It was this newborn, more confident Ginny that had boarded the Hogwarts Express. Her hair was now up in a short ponytail instead of lying flat on her shoulders; a visible change to mark the new her, and one that had been suggested by her mother of all people. She walked with a purpose and confidence that had been lacking the entirety of last year, and she eagerly looked around to take in the sights. Perhaps as a result of this change Ginny had noticed more boys checking her out while she walked down the corridor looking for Luna.

It had made her feel weird yet also good. _Very_ good. As though she were pretty and cute. She still only thought of Harry in _that_ way, but it was nice to know that other boys found her attractive.

All sense of empowerment she had gained from her changes over the summers had fled the next day when had laid eyes upon him. Seeing Harry's beautiful emerald eyes as he made his way down from the boy's dorm had literally driven the breath from Ginny's lungs. Every ounce of her body had screamed at her to run to him, to take him into her arms and declare her undying love to him then and there.

But she had shoved that urge away with every ounce of self-control she could muster. Feeling such an overwhelming sense of need well up from within herself had scared Ginny. It's implacable nature had reminded her of how she had felt when controlled by the Diary. So Ginny had fled from Harry's gaze and done her level best to calm her madly beating heart.

As the year went on the overpowering feeling began to fade. What replaced it was a sense of pure warmth and security she felt whenever the messy-haired boy was nearby. Her entire body started to heat up like a furnace in his presence while a single look from him could turn her bones into a mushy pile of goo.

Ginny was no longer a fool. Magic was clearly influencing the way she felt towards Harry. But she had no idea what it could be, nor why it was acting up now, and so had done her best to hold it in check while researching possible causes in Hogwarts' vast library.

It was during this time that she got to know Hermione better. The bushy haired girl was a fixture in the tome filled corridors of Hogwarts' library and had provided Ginny a sympathetic ear. She had listened to Ginny's fears and provided a shoulder for the younger girl to cry upon. It was, Ginny supposed, much like what an older sister would have done. A feeling only strengthened when the bright young witch dove into helping Ginny research her unknown condition with a fervent passion.

Shortly before the end of term they had finally managed to create a list of plausible possibilities. A few shrewd questions placed to various professors had narrowed it down even further. Eventually they had trimmed the list until only three possibilities remained.

If the list were right then Ginny was either experiencing a Veela's awakening, was possessed by a new item or entity similar to the Journal, or she was subject to some sort of rare magical bond that bound her to the one she could not stop thinking about. The first two were unlikely due to Ginny's lack of Veela heritage and the high levels of paranoia she had taken to using when interacting with magical artefacts. With only the final lead being fairly reasonable Ginny and Hermione had pursued it in depth.

It only took a single trip to the library and looking up magical bonds to realize what had happened. Somehow, the Life Debt Ginny had owed to Harry for being saved from Riddle's shade had transformed into something called a Life Bond. A magical bond which bound her to him for the rest of her life and would mark him as the only one she could ever truly love in a romantic kind of way. The book also mentioned that while it _was_ possible to nullify the bond, doing so would be an incredibly difficult and resource intensive effort that would require the assistance of at least one person at the level of an Archmage.

Those revelations had been like a bombshell. An incensed Hermione had spluttered something about 'mind control,' 'chauvinistic magical nonsense,' and 'women's rights' and had paced up and down the library aisle until Madame Pince had loudly told Hermione to shush.

But after a minute spent digesting the information Ginny found that she felt much differently. If she had been bound to someone like Draco Malfoy, or even the sweet and kind Neville Longbottom, then Ginny would have felt sick to the pit of her stomach. She had never been interested in either one of them and could never see herself being interested in them either.

Being bound to Harry, though, was different. This was the boy she had longed for since the day she had seen him on the train platform before his first year at Hogwarts. The boy who had slain a Basilisk to save her and had asked for nothing in return. Harry Potter was the boy Ginny had known she wanted to love, and to marry, since the day they had first met. So to her, the Life Bond felt like magic itself was giving her a helping hand. Because by Morgana's icy name was Ginny in need of it.

She was not blind. Half of the girls in the school stared at Harry the moment he entered a room. They gossiped about how good he looked in his Quidditch robes, how striking his eyes were, and how he always seemed to be filled with confidence in himself. A few of the more forward ones would even comment on how he had nearly ripened.

When compared to many of them Ginny knew that she fell short. She was pretty, but not as pretty as someone like Daphne Greengrass or Susan Bones. Ginny might have been athletic and tough, but there were girls like Katie Bell who were older and tougher than her. And while Ginny was smart, Hermione was far smarter. To make matters worse, Ginny had seen each of these girls look at Harry in a way that left little doubt in her mind that each one was a potential competitor for Harry's affections.

But Ginny had something on her side that they did not. _Magic itself_ had given her an advantage that none of the others possessed. Because while the bond was only one-sided at that point – it had to be, because Harry had not so much as flirted once with her – a Life Bond could only be established if there was either an active or latent attraction on both ends. Which meant that Harry James Potter found her attractive and all Ginny had to do was find a way to make him see it.

So Ginny had, after a long and heartfelt discussion, managed to calm Hermione down and sway the older girl to her point of view. Ginny had thanked the older girl profusely for all of her help and only asked that she keep it a secret from Harry for the time being. Hermione had grimaced, and muttered something about Harry's love life being as complicated as everything else about him, but had acceded to Ginny's wishes nonetheless.

Plans and ideas to attract Harry's attention were considered and scratched as the days slowly counted down until the school year ended. All of which had been proven fruitless, as Ginny was neither a seductress nor well-versed in asking someone out on a date. It had only been through pure luck that, with less than a week remaining in the term, Harry had asked Ginny to accompany him and Hermione on an adventure. An adventure that had finally healed her of the Diary's final lingering grasp and made her love for him swell up even more.

Yet the adventure had also shown Ginny that she was not yet worthy to stand next to him. And that both he and Hermione were destined for a greatness that would drive anyone around them to either push themselves to keep up or to fall back and look at them from afar. So upon returning to the Burrow for the summer Ginny had turned that knowledge into motivation and poured herself into becoming stronger.

Ginny turned her eyes away from the calendar and got up from the comfort of her bed. She made her way to the modest bathroom she shared with her brothers and took care of her morning routine with smooth efficiency, towelling her hair dry as she made her way to the private study desk set in a cramped corner of her small room.

Old textbooks and handwritten notes on Ancient Runes lay stacked to one side. While on the other was a deceptively small book titled 'A Beginner's Guide to the Mental Arts'. Bills old textbooks had never been sold and Ginny's older brother had told her the spells needed to take them out of the charmed chest in which they had been stored.

Ginny sat down and opened the book on mental arts to where she had left off. "The first stage of Occlumency," she read aloud. "Is the ability to shield one's thoughts behind a barrier. It is the first of the three major stages and is the easiest to achieve. But like all things it can be further improved, with the final goal being the attainment of a mind that feels like an open book to others yet is wholly beyond the influence of any outside source."

* * *

The loud thud of a rather large book hitting a wall rang out through the hotel room. As it did, Hermione swore at the top of her lungs without caring if anyone overheard her.

"Buggering piece of _shite!_" She yelled, grabbing at her hair in frustration. "Why can't you be easier to understand?"

The situation in which she currently found herself in was untenable! It had never happened to her before. In fact, the mere notion of it ever happening had been so far out of the realm of possibility that Hermione had never paid any thought to it.

The very concept that Hermione Jean Granger, the most brilliant witch of her age, avowed bookworm and near shut-in at the Hogwarts library could be defeated by a _pile of books_ was nonsense! She _devoured_ books on a daily basis. It did not matter whether they were the weekly books her parents sent her to read or if they were esoteric treatises on the arcane written by a witch or wizard two hundred years ago. All were consumed and added to the sum of Hermione's knowledge with a fervour that bordered on the religious.

But if one were to continue that analogy, then the current Hermione was currently experiencing a minor crisis of faith. Because for the first time in her life she was finding a literary goal she had set for herself to be impossible to fulfil.

Hermione angrily glared at the stack of ancient tomes neatly placed on the hotel room's desk. That stack was the source of all her current frustration. She had spent the past several weeks trying to wrap her brain around learning the various languages necessary to read their contents only to find herself struggling to read even the most basic of them. After hours upon hours of fruitless studying with little to gain for the effort it felt like her head was on the verge of exploding.

A stray thought passed through Hermione's mind that this was probably how Ron felt. A small tinge of pity wound itself through her consciousness before being summarily discarded. Because unlike with Ron, whose brain would shut down after the first page of assigned reading from their textbook, it had taken trying to learn the magical dialect of Ancient Greek within four weeks for her brain to turn to mush.

She had a rudimentary understanding of the magical variant of Old Norse thanks to her Ancient Runes course, and was fully fluent in the muggle version of Latin, but Hermione had not even started on learning the magical dialects for Hebrew, Sanskrit, Egyptian Hieroglyphics, or Linear A. All of which would be necessary to learn as there were several books written in each of them.

But between the diacritics and the irregular rules Hermione was beginning to go madder than a hatter. How she longed to start reading the sole book written using modern English – or even the book written in modern French – but both of them presumed a working knowledge of the subject which Hermione did not yet possess.

At this moment she deeply regretted giving the Time Turner back to Professor McGonnagall at the end of term. Yet as useful as it could have been in this situation, returning it had been part of the terms to which Hermione had agreed. In any case, she had already used it more than she been supposed to in order to help Ginny and to explore other… things… of interest to her. She had handed it in with a guilty conscience as it were, knowing that she had not held up to either the letter or the spirit of her agreement with the Head of Gryffindor.

But dear gosh would that blasted device have come in handy for this monumental task. With over thirty books to read, only one of which had even been begun, Hermione felt like she had finally bitten off more than she could chew when it came to books.

A polite cough coming from behind her caused her to come back to reality. Its gentle reminder notified Hermione that the other occupant of the room had noticed her odd behaviour and undoubtedly sought an explanation for it. Hermione turned to face them, her hot face undoubtedly flushed from a combination of embarrassment and the residual annoyance she felt.

Her mother gave Hermione a wry look in return. "You know deary, back when I was studying my Greek and Latin at Harrogate I wanted to toss my books like that too. But, and this might sound absolutely crazy to you, I seem to recall having refrained from actually doing so." The beautiful woman's warm brown eyes veritably sparkled with amusement at her daughter's expense. "Here I thought that your father and I had raised you well, and that – despite its dangers and oddities – you had found in Hogwarts a place wherein you could finally thrive. But if learning how to throw what appears to be a priceless book at a hotel wall is a part of the school's curriculum, then maybe your father and I need to have a word with you."

Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing of the sort, mum. I'm just really, _really_ exasperated at the moment."

"At the book? Or could it be that something else is bothering your brilliant little mind?"

Hermione's shoulders hunched at the questions. While she had told her parents that the books had been assigned to her by the Headmaster as part of a special project, she had avoided telling her parents why she was so dead set on learning this material. Yet judging by the way her mother was eyeing her it did not look like Hermione would be able to dodge the subject for any longer.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "A bit of both, mum. It's… complicated."

Emma Granger raised a delicate eyebrow. "And it's not something that your poor, elderly, uneducated muggle of a mother could help you with?"

"I didn't mean it like that, mum!" Hermione said in exasperation. Her parents did not usually seem to be bothered by their lack of a place within the magical community, but sometimes Hermione was not so sure. Every now and then there would be a comment like that one, dressed up as a joke or a wry observation, and Hermione would find herself unsure of how to respond. "It's… it's… well, honestly, part of it you really wouldn't understand. But part of it, um, you might."

A soft laugh came in reply. "Good! That sounds like something I can work with. Now go fetch that poor book and place it back on the desk where it belongs. Then come and join me up on the bed. We'll talk this problem over together and see if I can help to simplify it."

Hermione did as she was bid, her hands fidgeting nervously as she handled the ancient tome. Not for the first time was she glad that the things were spelled against mundane dangers like water or minor physical impacts. After bookmarking her place in it Hermione hopped up onto the bed next to her mother and examined her intently.

Emma had a simple charm to her, a glow which shone through even at the age of forty-four. She had soft brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes, and a figure that could captivate men twenty years younger. Hermione's father, Dan, would often bemoan how no one paid any attention to him when his wife was around and a recurring joke of his involved him begging Hermione to never become a woman like her mother lest he disappear into the background entirely.

Telling that particular joke had earned the man more than a single light slap or two to his shoulder from both women over the years, but his loving sentiment never failed to bring a warm glow to either of their hearts. He was silly and often bizarre, but he really did love both of them in his own way. Emma often said that his continued use of the joke just demonstrated that she had yet to properly house-train him, to which Dan would come up with some cheeky response that often led to the two adults disappearing to their room for a half hour or more.

Yet deep down, every time Hermione heard him make that joke, a part of her worried that her father's wish might come true. That she would never blossom into a beautiful woman like her mother and just stay a plain, boring girl forever.

A late growth spurt that had started about a month before school ended had finally started to change things, giving her an extra bra size that had required an early summer shopping trip with her mother and some more curves to her figure, but it was too early to tell if either would help Hermione become as beautiful as her mother since there was still her too large front teeth and her unnameable hair to deal with as well. Not to mention Hermione's lack of any skills with cosmetics and her complete lack of fashion.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Emma smiled and tucked an errant piece of hair behind Hermione's ear. "Oh honey, you shouldn't worry about how you look. You are the kindest soul that I have ever met, and you're not nearly as unattractive as you might think."

"You're just saying that because you're my mum," Hermione said with a pout. After all she had heard those words before.

"Nope! I may be your mother and have a mother's pride in you, but I have _evidence_ to prove me right."

Hermione's head flashed upright. Any thoughts about discussing the reason behind her research into ancient tomes was shoved aside thanks to the dawning horror she felt over her mother's possible line of discussion. "Oh please no, _please_ don't talk about last summer!"

That had been the wrong thing to say. Emma Granger's eyes sparkled as she bit her lower lip in glee. "Well, I _was_ only going to refer to how those two young boys in the lobby had their eyes glued to your bottom when we first arrived a few days ago, but if you want to talk about your little kiss last summer…"

"No! Nope, nu uh, not at all mum. It never happened." Her face blushing scarlet, Hermione tried to bury her head into her arms. "It was just a dumb moment is all it was. He said that he was leaving the next day, and that he thought that I was pretty, and that he wanted to give me a present before he left. I didn't think that what he what he really meant was… well, you know, _that!_"

"You mean _kissing_, my dear?"

"Yes! Of course that's what I mean," Hermione pushed herself away from her mother so that she could gesture wildly with her arms. "It's – it's not like I was really interested in him or anything. We had only known each other for a few days. And it's not like tha-that kiss went on for very long either."

Emma's amused smile at her daughter's expense was wide enough to split the moon. Her eyes danced with mirth as she continued to tease her daughter mercilessly. "Oh, my apologies honey. I didn't realize that gently _kissing_ for nearly five minutes, taking a break to catch your breath, and then _snogging_ for _another_ ten minutes under a full moon wasn't considered long any more. My my, how times have changed since I was young."

"How do you even… Oh, my, _gosh!_ _Mum! __Were you spying on me_?"

"I prefer to think of it as cataloguing my daughter's romantic escapades for future recall."

"Oh my God! You were! You really _were_ spying on me!"

"Oh hush, it's not _that_ big of a deal. Parents all over the world do it when their _underage_ children sneak out close to midnight." Emma's tone had a little bit of an edge at that part. It was somewhat deserved as well as Hermione had snuck out from under the curfew. "Besides, I _could_ have interrupted you in the middle of it instead of keeping quiet until now. Would you have preferred that scenario?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, only to find that nothing came out of it. Her tired brain must have been reaching its limit because she was unable to come up with any sort of rebuttal to her mother's suggestion. All she could do was to mutter a sullen 'no' and shut her mouth with an audible click.

Feeling as if her face was aflame, Hermione brought her knees up to her chest in order to completely hide her face from sight. That night, as much fun as it had been, was really something that Hermione wanted to forget. She had wanted her first kiss to mean something. To come from the boy she had a crush on. But instead she had just gone and given it away to some… some _stranger_ she had met while on holiday with her parents. Just remembering it was mortifying!

The boy had been charming. Tall for their age, but with mottled green eyes and dark black hair that had reminded her of someone else. His name had been something common, like James or Arthur, and had not stuck in her mind once the summer had ended.

The kiss, though… _that_ had been nice. So nice that Hermione had lost herself in it. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, imagining that she was locking lips with the boy of her dreams instead of the boy holding her in his arms.

But after several minutes of pure bliss, when she had pulled back to look into Harry's brilliant green eyes, the mottled green orbs that had greeted her gaze had dashed the illusion and brought Hermione crashing back into reality. She had fled the area shortly after after wishing the boy a safe trip to wherever it had been that he was going, running back to her hotel room in blind panic while blushing up a storm. That had been the night that Hermione had realized that she fancied her best friend. A revelation that had nearly caused her heart to burst when next she saw him and which still caused her body to heat up whenever he came near.

Damn puberty for making her like this! It was not fair that she had to suffer like that when the boys around her still acted like children. Hermione had cursed the fact that women went through puberty sooner than boys with a vengeance. She had gone so far as to look up the subject in Hogwarts' library, but other than learning a few handy spells, like the anti-pregancy and lubrication charms, Hermione had learned that magic dealing directly with a living organism's body was generally forbidden.

Although she had been quite angered that no one had told her about the charm to reduce the pains caused by a woman's menstrual flow. Finding out that it was apparently common knowledge amongst witches, and that everyone else had assumed that she too knew of it, was just the cherry on top of an already infuriating pie.

Regardless, it turned out the reason why Lockhart had vanished the bones in Harry's arm back in their second year was more common than she had initially thought. Minor healing charms were usually the limits of what most witches and wizards could do without causing something similar to Lockhart's mishap.

"Judging by your look, honey, it seems like you've tried to retreat into your head to calm yourself down. Something which is rather suspicious when talking about a boy that means nothing to you." Emma narrowed her eyes as she gazed at her daughter. "Hm… Unless I miss my guess, that probably means that there's _another_ charming young man involved. One that actually does mean something to you. Such as a certain boy with, oh, I don't know, brilliant green eyes and a mop of shaggy black hair, hm?"

Hermione's head rose to gape in shock at her mother, aghast that she had been seen through so easily. "Ho-how did you figure that out? I haven't told that to _anyone_! And no one else has said anything about it to me either."

Emma gave another soft laugh and shook her head in amusement. "It's because I'm your mother, deary. As well as being a far more experienced woman at this sort of thing than you."

The older woman then leaned in close to poke her daughter's side right where it was ticklish, causing Hermione to jump.

"Besides," Emma said with poorly hidden glee. "The way you were looking at him when we picked you up at the platform a few weeks ago was a dead giveaway. I'd heard of making cow eyes before, but I'd never really seen it until I saw the expression on your face."

Hermione groaned at that. Had she really been that obvious? She had been so certain that no one knew about the feelings she had for her best friend. Not even Ginny, who watched Harry like a hawk, or Lavender, who seemed to know whenever a new couple was formed at Hogwarts, had managed to puzzle it out.

Emma patted Hermione's arm excitedly as she scooted closer on the bed. "Now tell me all about him. Have you talked to him yet? Held hands? Or kissed him? I only know him as the nice boy you hang out with, not as possible boyfriend material, and I want all of the details!"

After moaning into her hands once again and wondering how she had gotten dragged into this discussion in the first place, Hermione began to talk. Slowly at first. The constant interruptions from her mother, in the forms of questions or squeals of joy, kept breaking Hermione's momentum. After several minutes of this behaviour, though, Hermione had reached her fill. She levelled a glare at the woman who was not acting her age at all, and whose expression was like that of a kid who had found themselves locked away inside a chocolate factory.

"As I was saying, _mum_," Hermione bit out in annoyance. "Yes, I _do_ think that Harry has a shapely rear. And I also love his hair, _and_ the way his shoulders look so broad, _and_ how beautiful his green eyes look in _any_ sort of lighting, and everything else about his body that I can see or touch. But none of those things arethe reason why I like him!"

"Then what _is_ the reason? Because as things go you're already making him sound like quite the dish; I'm surprised that you haven't tried to eat him up already if he's even half as attractive to you as seems to be the case."

Hermione glared at her mother and thought about stopping there. It would serve the older woman right for having pushed her when Hermione had said not too.

But after a few seconds of contemplation Hermione did not choose to stop there. Because while she really did feel annoyed at her mother, Hermione also felt grateful as well. Talking about her feelings with someone else like this felt… good. To finally get it off of her chest with someone who would not judge her for feeling the way that she did.

So Hermione told her mother everything. About how her heart had soared when Harry had risked his life to save her from the troll. About how kind he was, and how brave, even though he thought that he was neither. That no matter what happened he always tried to do what was right. Even if it meant that the entire school hated him or called him names.

Her mother had already heard part of these stories; Hermione had written regarding the Troll incident the very next day and there had been no way to hide what had happened as a result of the Basilisk. Not with how often she and her parents wrote one another. But Hermione had only gone over it in letters and not even her own exhaustive writing could contain every detail.

As she spoke, Hermione thought about how similar her words sounded to the ones Ginny had voiced during a similar conversation in Hogwarts' library. The young red-head's admiration for their mutual love interest had followed along the exact same lines as Hermione's own. And not for the first time, Hermione wondered if not telling Ginny about her own attraction to Harry had been wrong. Because while Hermione had not told a lie, she had still omitted the truth.

She mentioned as much to her mother and found herself surprised by the woman's reaction.

Emma groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed, flinging a hand over her eyes. "It's the Granger curse yet again!" She sighed dramatically and waved her other hand in the air. "What you're saying sounds just like what happened with your father and I when we first met in undergrad."

Hermione's ears perked up at that; she had heard the story of how her parents met more than once, but neither of them had ever mentioned something like a love triangle being involved. But before Hermione could pursue it any further her mother waved it off.

"We can talk about ancient history later, deary. It's a long story and one filled with quite a lot of sex and drama. For now, tell me more about this Ginny girl and why she's interested in Harry. Then I can begin helping you figure out how to show Harry why you're the better girl for him!"

"But… no! That's not what I want." Hermione said as she shook her head.

"It's not – but why?" For the first time since the discussion began, Emma Granger had a look of confusion on her face.

"Because… well… what if… what if I really don't want that to happen," Hermione said softly.

This was the crux of the matter when it came to her feelings regarding her best friend. The secret she had not shared with anyone and the real reason why she felt guilty about not talking to Ginny about their shared attraction to Harry.

But this moment, with her mother, felt like an opportunity for her to finally give voice to it. So in the most timid voice she had used since before she had gone to Hogwarts and discovered her place in the world, Hermione gave voice to a desire she had buried deep within herself. "What if, for some reason, I would be okay if he were to… if _Harry_ were to date both of us. At the same time. And with both of our consent."

At her side, Hermione's mother slowly sat upright. The older woman raised her hands and gently placed them on her daughter's shoulders, staring deep into her daughter's eyes.

"Hermione, sweety," she said softly. "I know that we already had a talk about having sex and what you should do when you feel attracted to someone, so I have a very important question to ask of you. And I need you to be totally honest with me about it."

Hermione nodded her head. "Of course mum."

A pause settled on the air. Then Emma Granger blurted her question out with all the grace of an elephant doing ballet. "Are you gay? Or bi-sexual? Because if you are, then that's totally okay with me! Your father and I will love you no matter what."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She had a flashback to a similar moment not too long ago when she had teased Harry over finding out that Draco Malfoy had a crush on him. Then she vehemently whipped her head from side to side in response to her mother's barrage of questions. "No! Not that there's anything wrong with it, mind you, but, urk, no! I mean, while I _do_ find other girls to be pretty on a purely aesthetic level, especially if I see them… I mean, _no_, I don't really find girls attractive in _that_ particular way!"

Emma shrugged and let her hands fall from Hermione's shoulders. "Oh well. I really got my hopes up for a moment there, but I guess that you didn't inherit that from your father or me after all."

"You-what-huh?" Her mum's blasé delivery of such an enormous revelation finally did it. Hermione's already faltering brain shut down as she stared at her mother in slack-jawed disbelief. But instead of going into more detail regarding the enormous bomb she had just dropped the woman in question just waved off Hermione's shock once again and refused to address it.

"Like I said earlier, honey, we're here to talk about you and not about myself or your father. I'll tell you all about my past – and your father's too – some other time, but for now I'd like to hear more about _you_. I just wanted to let you know that whatever you tell me will not come as a shock and that I'll support your love life no matter what you decide to do."

Feeling as though her entire world had just turned upside down – for never in a million years had Hermione ever expected _that_ sort of a revelation to appear from her mother's mouth – Hermione nodded rather dumbly in acceptance. A part of her wondered where all this information had been when her parents had sat down and talked about this subject with her after her first year at Hogwarts while another part of her was trying to record the information for future analysis once her brain found a way to restart itself. A slow process that seemed to be going nowhere fast.

On the positive side of things, Hermione's giant revelation, which she had worried over for the past year, no longer felt so scary. Because if both her mother _and_ her father, apparently, were attracted to members of the same and opposite sexes and had found a way to make things work for nearly twenty years of marriage… it somehow made her own issue felt like small potatoes in comparison.

So Hermione took a leap of faith and told her mother about why she had objected to trying to monopolize Harry's affections. And as it turned out her mother actually was thrown for a loop by it at first, but Emma got back on the horse fairly quickly and helped Hermione to talk things through. And, in the process of doing so lifted a burden from Hermione's shoulders that she had not even realized had been there.

Several hours later a teary eyed – but _happy_ – Hermione went back to her studying with a vengeance. The talk with her mother had rejuvenated her, refreshing Hermione's determination to succeed at everything she put her mind to solving.

She _would_ succeed in figuring out what was behind the Game of Death. Even if taking the time to learn the languages and read the material Dumbledore had given her wound up taking twenty years, she would still accomplish it.

But perhaps just as importantly Hermione would use this coming year to _finally_ make her move on the green-eyed boy of her dreams. She was done with waiting and hiding her feelings. And if everything went according to the plan she was even now beginning to draw up in her mind, then Hermione would not be the only one to find happiness in his arms. There might yet be a way for both her _and_ Ginny to find happiness with the boy they both loved. But the oddest part of the situation, which had reduced her oddly experienced mother to tears of laughter, was that Hermione would somehow need to persuade Harry that dating more than one girl at the same time was actually okay.

It was backward idea. But with a little bit of luck – and a bucketful of hard work – Hermione was confident that she could convince Harry to give it a go. Because while over half of Hogwarts might have been interested in dating Harry Potter, with many of the girls being sexier or better looking than her, Hermione had two giant advantages over all of them.

She was Harry's best friend and knew him like the back of her hand. And thanks to Harry's notes from the Game, her own observations, and Lavenders incessant gossip, Hermione now knew the strengths and weaknesses of nearly every potential rival that Hogwarts had to offer.

The most valuable weapon in a war was information. And in the coming war for Harry's heart, Hermione had all of the information needed to win the campaign.

* * *

"Behold, ladies and gentlemen, your International Youth Duelling Champion of 1994! She's the brilliant and bewitching woman of your dreams, the darling of the hour, and is unrivalled within the ring! Give a warm welcome to the one, the only, Fleeeeeeuuur Delacour!"

Fleur smiled and waved her hand as the crowd went wild at her introduction. Men and women alike screamed her name, some having to be restrained by the stadium's security as they attempted to rush onto the stage. Fleur stepped onto the champion's podium with a single graceful step, raising her wand high in victory while the two wizards who stood on the podiums below were dazzled by her Allure.

Like most of males her age the two boys lacked the fortitude to resist. Their minds were pathetically weak while their skills with a wand had not been any better upon the field of battle. Beating them without using her Allure had been simplicity itself. Using it against them now was just a measure to keep them from ruining her moment.

But while the international crowd of wizards and witches continued to cheer and chant her name, Fleur found that her mind was already far away. This stage was but one of many in her life and represented only a small step on her future path towards success. One that might be closer than she had ever dreamed.

For before school had ended for the summer her Headmistress, the renowned Madame Maxine, had told Fleur of a far greater challenge than this duelling tournament; one that would be held during the coming year in Britain. The powerful witch and mentor to Fleur had gone on to mention that some of the older students would have a chance to participate in it and that the winner would be given the opportunity to win a glory not achieved in centuries.

Fleur's dazzling smile gleamed under the bright lights as she imagined it. The title of Tri-Wizard Champion would be hers and none would be allowed to stand in her way.

**A/N:** I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter ^-^ And yes, Fleur is _absolutely_ included in the harem. As anyone who has gone to my profile knows HarryxFleur is one of my _favorite_ pairings in all of fandom.

As for Bill… I am actually quite fond of him as a character. I just don't like him paired with Fleur :p. He will, however, have a pairing of his own and it will be with a fellow canon character. Good luck guessing.

I tried to approach each of the three girls featured in this chapter in different ways, with takes on each that I have either never or only rarely seen done in fan fiction; keep in mind that it is also only the tip of the ice berg for them. Hopefully it turned out well and y'all enjoyed it. As you can see, none of the three first girls I've chosen to set Harry up with intends to be a pushover. They will all grow and change over time in order to develop as people and, in turn, to help Harry develop as a person as well.

I'll be going on break for awhile and hope to return soon. I've nearly finished fleshing out my outline for Year 4 (I've got the main plots and subplots charted out, as well as how to tie them into the overarching plot for Year 5 and beyond; I just need to add in a few small details here and there) and have already started writing the next three chapters. Next on the docket is getting Harry out of the Dursleys, moving in with Sirius and co, and then AU shenanigans at the Quidditch World Cup. After which Year 4 will finally begin, bringing with it a Tri-Wizard Tournament filled with surprises.

Updated on 1/28/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	16. Chapter 16: Beginner's Rank

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Sixteen: Beginner's Rank**

It was on the evening of July 5th, 1994 that Harry closed the character class guide for the 2nd edition of D&D. A satisfied smile on his face, he placed it down on top of a guide for Planescape. The two books topped off a rather large stack located at the side of his bed. Then, finished with his reading for the day, Harry sat up from his comfortable sea of pillows and stretched muscles that had grown sore from staying in one place for too long.

Pouring through them over the past month had at times been a long, hard slog, but in the end all of his efforts had more than paid off. With Hermione's help, and with Hedwig serving as a courier between the two of them, Harry had finally begun to get a handle on how the Game operated on a functional level. Terms which he had originally found confusing, such as 'Inventory' and 'Menu,' now made perfect sense.

In order to avoid possible detection – after Dobby's interception of his mail back in his second year Harry no longer felt that Owl Post was very secure – both Harry and Hermione had made sure to disguise their intentions by talking about the Game as being just another interest shared by fellow muggle raised magic users. The two of them had both purchased game boys that summer and had included discussions on the games they had bought in order to add another layer to their subterfuge. Hopefully there was no one actually going through his mail, but Harry would prefer to err on the side of caution when it came to something as important as the Game of Death.

Harry fingered the spine of a nearby book as he mulled over the contents he had just absorbed and what they might portend for the Game of Death.

"Menu," he stated in a clear and concise tone. When the text box came up, the accompanying ding no longer fazed Harry. He had grown used to it as a result of his constant experimentation with the Game and its abilities.

**Ding!**

**MENU**

**GAMER STATS PAGE**

**ACTIVE PARTY MEMBERS**

**KNOWLEDGE COMPENDIUM**

**INVENTORY**

**OBSERVE**

**HELP**

Most of the features listed on the Menu had already been used by Harry in some fashion. For instance, he already knew how to use Observe; the Help feature was an annoying but useful tool that he was more than familiar with by this point; while the Gamer Stats Page was merely an easy way to call up his stats page without having to rely on Observe and could be used to track his progression – and that of anyone else he were to use Observe on – over time.

Harry selected his stats page and looked at the display. He had gained 10 levels by destroying Voldemort's Horcrux and was now at level 40. Which meant that he was now at the same level as an exceptional fourth year student at Hogwarts, though his true power was far greater. No other student his age could match him once Harry's various traits and titles were factored into the equation.

Harry passed over his many titles and traits since none of them had changed since he had initially checked them. So he concentrated on his attributes and noted how they had changed.

**Harry Potter**

**Age: 14**

**Level 40**

**Stats:**

**STR: 55**

**DEX: 68**

**CON: 53**

**INT: 127**

**WIS: 108**

**CHA: 357**

After destroying the Horcrux and receiving more levels as a reward for having done so, the Game had automatically assigned the attributes Harry had gained from leveling. It had decided to place the new points into Harry's bottom three attributes. Those ones governed magic so it it made sense to Harry that the Game would prioritize them. He _was_ a wizard after all and having a better grasp over the magic he was learning to wield could only be helpful. Having to fight Basilisks, possessed teachers, and the shade of an evil wizard had given Harry a deep appreciation for any thing which could help him to stay alive.

Going by D&D gaming logic, which Harry found to be the archetype closest to his situation with the Game of Death, he would be what was generally called a 'player'. But given that he had yet to encounter anyone else with this ability, and that Professor Dumbledore had never heard of anything remotely like it, Harry figured that he was in what was often called a 'solo' campaign.

The alternative – that there were other, potentially hostile, players who also had access to the Game of Death – was not a pleasant notion. Though it would not be the first, for D&D logic had already given Harry a rather unpleasant revelation. Because if the Game of Death functioned like a D&D RPG, and Harry was in a solo campaign, then there was one other necessary role which had to be filled.

The role of the Dungeon Master.

Given the name of the Game there was likely only one entity who could perform that role. That of Death itself. And the notion that Harry was playing a game, one where his life and the lives of those around him, could be affected by the entity known was Death was unsettling to say the least.

Harry's brow furrowed as he thought over it for what felt like the umpteenth time.

What if there was something inherent within the Game that could come back to bite him at a later date? What if Death decided to change the rules on Harry without any notice? Or what if the mere fact that that he had accepted the invitation to play the Game of Death in the first place meant that Harry had doomed himself to some sort of eternal damnation in the afterlife?

The following several days after Harry had come to the realization that Death could be his DM had not been pleasant. It had given Harry what Hermione later called an 'existential crisis,' and had managed to shake his resolve more than anything else since his experiences with the Dementors at Hogwarts.

But talking things through as best he could with Hermione over a flurry of letters had – as was often the case – helped to settle Harry down somewhat. Talking about his fears had helped him to gain control over them and remind him that he had already made his choice back when he had accepted the Game of Death's initial offer. Harry had made the decision to use the Game, a decision which had allowed him to save the lives and livelihoods of three people he cared about. After which the Game had also allowed Harry to strike a real, meaningful blow against Voldemort.

Thus far, the Game of Death's benefits far outweighed any downsides it had brought. So instead of wallowing in fear of the unknown, Harry chose to focus on the present. He would let Hermione figure things out regarding the esoteric force while he focused himself on preparing to face whatever else life would throw at him.

A knocking sound came from his door.

Not expecting to be disturbed, Harry raised his head to look at it. His ears caught the faint rustle of something being placed on the carpeted floor. This sound was followed by the whispered noise of sock-clad feet on carpet scuttling away.

Cocking an eyebrow in amusement at his aunt's fearful antics, Harry left his position on the bed and softly padded over to the door. He opened it and looked around; his aunt had moved quickly to get out of sight and there was no one else in the hallway. Then he stared down at the floor, whereupon Harry gave a snort of amusement.

What lay on the ground before him was a tray containing his noontime meal. It was a simple affair composed of a roast beef sandwich with lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. An unopened bag of crisps lay to one side while a white napkin and a tall glass of water stood on the other to complete the picture.

Looking at the food brought a small smile to Harry's face. The meal itself was nothing to get too excited over if you were someone who had always had access to three full meals a day, but Harry had not grown up like that; most of his childhood in this house had consisted of two small meals of leftovers per day. Or, if he was being punished, one meal with a glass or two of water.

But the letter from Sirius had changed everything. And this summer, unlike every summer or year that had come before, Harry could finally eat as much as he desired.

He bent down so he could pick up the tray of food. Now that there was a meal in front of him he could not wait to dig in; he had been so absorbed in his research that he had failed to notice the time and now found that he was rather hungry. Everything on the plate was prepared perfectly to his liking and just looking at it had caused his stomach to let out a hungry growl. Then Harry paused; he had noticed a single glaring error concerning the plate of food.

Knowing his relatives as he did, Harry had a feeling that it was very much a purposeful error, and that his aunt was still lurking in the vicinity to see if he noticed it. Feeling irked at this little game, Harry decided to have a little fun with at her expense.

"Thank you very much for the food, Aunt Petunia," Harry said aloud to the empty corridor. "But the next time you bring me a sandwich I would ask that you not forget to include the pickle too. I know that you always keep some for Uncle Vernon stocked on the top shelf, so there's no good reason to leave it off; especially when you _know_ that I like them too."

A slight, soft shuffle came to Harry's ears as he spoke. His guess had been correct; of _course_ his aunt Petunia had tried to spy on him to see if he would knuckle under and let the petty hit land without comment.

"Oh, and before I forget," he said in a saccharine sweet tone of voice. "I am expecting a _very_ important guest tomorrow. They owled me last evening to say that they would be arriving at 10am sharp and that they expect the entire family to be present."

A soft thunk, as of something heavy dropping onto the carpeted floor, rang out. Good. That meant his aunt had heard him and correctly interpreted his annoyance. Which meant that he could give his words one last twist to make sure that his point fully sunk in.

"You and Uncle Vernon have, aside from some small periods of forgetfulness, done a passable job in regards to helping me this summer. But it would be best to continue listening to me lest you violate the terms of our agreement. Am I understood?"

This time the sound of shuffling feet was rather loud as it headed in the direction of the kitchen. His aunt had gotten his message and given up the pretence of remaining hidden, choosing to beat a hasty retreat. Harry doubted, however, that she was off to get him a pickle as his news regarding Sirius' imminent arrival had most likely thrown her into a terrible tizzy.

Oh well. Harry shrugged his shoulders and carried the meal into his neat and tidy room. He sat down to enjoy the simple meal with gusto. He also split his time and attention by catching up on the large stack of letters Hedwig had dropped off earlier in the day.

One of the biggest bright spots of Harry's summer had been the increased number of letters he had exchanged with his friends. Whether it was Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Sirius, Remus or even the Twins and the rest of Harry's teammates on the Gryffindor Quidditch squad, Harry had messaged nearly constantly with virtually everyone he knew.

Hermione's constant messaging had been a given – his best friend had done much the same the year before –, but the letters between them had also included more than just the usual updates on schoolwork and research. Harry could not put his finger on what exactly had changed, but he was certain that something had. Each letter filled him with a warmth that he had never really gathered from her letters in prior summers and Harry often found himself taking them out to re-read whenever he took a break from his own studies.

So far his favourite letter had been the one Hermione had written from a beach side resort in the south of France. She had included all sorts of details about her location, as well as the fact that her parents wanted to take her to tour the local Magical School. She had offhandedly mentioned that she wished that he were there to to accompany her and how much he would have liked the locales she had seen and visited.

Reading that she missed him and was thinking of him had caused Harry's stomach to go through all _sorts_ of flops. He had spent nearly two hours working on his response to the letter and had only sent it after an impatient Hedwig had begun nipping his earlobes. Harry had glared at his snowy white familiar only to wilt under her golden-eyed stare; a post script to the letter in which he complained to Hermione about Hedwig's iron-claw tactics had only garnered him another, harsher nip from the far too-smart animal.

The letters Harry received from Ron, on the other hand, were far easier to read and reply. Harry's best male friend had kept him updated on all of the happenings going on in the World Quidditch Cup. The tournament was scheduled to begin soon and was being held in England for the first time in centuries. According to the excitable redhead, while the national teams of Ireland and Bulgaria were the acknowledged favourites to reach the finals, Ron was rather bullish on England's chances to knock out Ireland if they both made it to the quarter-finals.

While Ireland had the better team overall, the English were supposed to be nearly as good. Their seeker, Hardwin Bumblepop, was supposed to be better than the Irish Aidan Lynch. His presence was the reason why Ron favoured them; according to him, Bumblepop was the only Seeker who could possibly give some new Phenom named Viktor Krum a run for his money.

Knowing the boy's taste in local Quidditch teams as he did, though, Harry took Ron's words with a grain of salt. If the national team played anything like the Chudley Cannons, then there was not much hope for them. Harry just hoped that they would do better than their muggle equivalent, where it looked as though the American's would be taking home the Cup this year.

Meanwhile, the letters from Sirius and Remus had been filled with stories of a string of summer adventures they were constantly going on. And though things had seemed to calm down with the appearance of several witches related to Sirius, Harry hoped that they would be able to sneak in one or two more adventures when he joined them.

Beyond this core group Harry had not expected to receive any post. So when the letters from Ginny, Dobby and Neville had arrived, Harry had found himself unexpectedly – and quite nicely – inundated with unsought correspondences.

Over the course of several rather long and winding letters, Ginny had written to Harry and asked his advice on a number of subjects; such as what courses she should take next year and whether Harry thought she should try out as a Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He had written back to tell her to avoid Divination at all costs, but that otherwise she should feel free to choose whatever seemed interesting. As for Quidditch try-outs, while Harry doubted that the pretty redhead could outfly any of the brilliant trio of girls Gryffindor currently had at the position, all three of their reserve players had graduated last year along with Oliver Wood. If Ginny were to do well in the try-outs, then she could at least make it onto the team as a reserve player.

Her reply to his advice had been enthusiastic and reading it had brought Harry a warm feeling. In spite of her feelings for him and the discomfort they still caused him to feel, it felt good to see the young girl finally coming out of her shell. Harry had not forgotten her assistance in destroying the Horcrux, and hoped that that event could serve as a sort of new beginning for the two of them to establish a friendship like he had done with Ron.

Shortly after he had that thought Harry had smacked his forehead with his open palm. Because if the only way he could make friends with people was to take them on potentially life-threatening adventures, then there was a good chance he was doomed to make few friends in life. That, or he really needed to find a new way to make friends. But as Harry rather liked only having a small group of close friends and was not the most socially outgoing of individuals, he tabled the topic for consideration at a later date which would likely never come.

The most surprising letter Harry had received, though, was a rather dry note dripping with annoyance from Professor McGonagall.

It had been presaged by the only real mishap of the summer thus far when a bumbling Hogwarts owl had flown into his room to deliver the official envelope. The poor, hapless animal had dropped the letter directly onto the face of a sleeping Hedwig's. After which it had given a proud hoot at accomplishing its mission and extended a claw towards Harry for payment.

Enraged by the intruder's temerity against her while in her territory, the snowy white owl had launched herself at the ignorant offender in a furious rage. A flurry of feathers later had seen the terrified Hogwarts owl literally winging away from the house as fast as it could with Hedwig in hot pursuit. Hedwig had not returned until much later than was her norm, and the scattering of foreign feathers clustered around her beak had not spoken well as to the other owl's fate.

Harry had winced in sympathetic pain and said a prayer for the owl's life as he watched the two fly off. Then he opened the unfortunate bit of postage and read the letter. In it, Harry's Head of House had asked him if Harry had reached his decision as the deadline for class changes was fast approaching, and that if he did not reply to her by the next day then he would be marked down as wishing to stay in Divination for a second year.

Alarmed that he had allowed it to slide – and horrified at the thought of spending another year of classes in Professor Trelawney's terrible tower – Harry had scribbled down his reply after a quick perusal of the upcoming classes to be offered at Hogwarts. He had consulted with Hermione and Remus about it in the letters Harry exchanged with them and, although he had been waffling between several, in the end he had decided to go with one of the new courses being taught at Hogwarts this year that had sounded rather interesting.

The field it studied was closely associated with two of the greatest magic users of all time, so Harry figured that it would be hard to go wrong with choosing it. It was also supposed to be more on the practical side of things rather than the theoretical, something which Harry felt played to his strengths as a student.

Once his decision was written – and the letter safely held in the talons of a sharp-eyed Hedwig – the Game had given him a short notification saying that he had successfully managed to switch courses. After which it had fallen silent and refused to divulge any further information on the subject, which Harry figured meant that he would need to start learning or practising the new type of magic before the Game told him anything new.

Harry finished the rest of the food and let out a satisfied burp. Then he put the last touches on a pair of letters to Neville and Dobby and stood up. After placing the letters next to Hedwig's perch Harry moved around his room and tidied up a little. He packed his clothes and wizarding paraphernalia into his school trunk and made sure that the rest of his belongings were squared away. Then it was time to try and sleep, because tomorrow was a big day. One which Harry had wished to happen for as long as he could remember.

**A/N:** So I'm back! A little later than I had hoped, yes, but also sooner than I had feared. I hope that you all enjoyed this short chapter even if it was something of an info dump. I promise that the next one will be posted in two or three days and that it will be anything _but_ an info dump when it arrives.

Just as a minor mea culpa in case anyone tries to call me out later on, I am not all that familiar with 2nd edition D&D rules; I've merely dabbled with them on occasion. My first real D&D experiences came in the eras of 3.5 and 4.0, and I am _far_ more familiar with the current 5.0 rule set than I am with 2.0. Which is basically a long-winded way of saying that I won't be limiting myself to 2.0's rather simplistic and outdated system.

At all.

But since 2.0 was the latest edition available back in 1994, that means that it's the one which my version of Harry has learned about. Along with a side helping of video games that were around at the time that I have only just begun to namedrop lol. You know, back when Mario, Zelda, and company were the reigning kings of video games, and hardcore D&D based games like Baldur's Gate I and II, Neverwinter Nights (NWN), and Planescape: Torment were still years away. Let alone the current morass of MMO, FPS, Pay to Win, and 'Free to Play' nonsense in which gaming is currently mired :-(

And as an aside, I actually got the idea for making charisma the power modifier for magic in this story from my first experience with the Sorcerer class in D&D 3.5. Although the Wizard class of that era blew it out of the water in terms of sheer power and flexibility (death to enemies and allies alike, muwahahahahaha), I've never forgotten how interesting the Sorcerer class was as a concept.

Updated on 2/27/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	17. Chapter 17: Bye Bye Privet Drive

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Seventeen: Bye Bye Privet Drive**

Sirius Black was many things. Escaped convict, ladies man extraordinaire, and heir to one of the richest – and Darkest – magical families in the known magical world to name a few. He was also a man of many thoughts, few of which were truly profound in any way. He felt that it was better to find the joke in things than in searching for the lone dark cloud lingering in the sky.

But today was different. Today, the usually irrepressible Sirius had been stressed since the moment he woke up. Nervous butterflies danced a macabre dance in his stomach while his fingers drummed frantic beats on anything they touched.

A loud crash came as Sirius took a corner without looking where he was going. He looked at what had fallen to the floor absent-mindedly – he had just destroyed a Ming vase from the Qianlong period – before banging his head on a nearby wall in frustration.

A quick _R__eparo_ spell rang out from behind him as Sirius' oldest remaining friend cleaned up this latest mess.

"For Merlin's sake, Sirius, are you _sure _that you don't want me to accompany you to pick the boy up? That's the eighth thing you've broken in the past ten minutes!" The often melancholy werewolf said in an irked tone of voice. "You're not really inspiring much confidence in your abilities at the moment. I'd even go so far to say that I'm worried that I might have to call the ministry for an anti-splinch unit!"

Sirius scoffed at the notion that he might mess up something as basic and simple as apparition. Even with some rust lingering from his time spent in Azkaban, Sirius was far too good of a wizard to mess up side-along Apparition.

Remus was not amused. The man waggled a finger at Sirius while growling. "Nope! None of that 'I'm just pure awesome' nonsense from you now, Sirius. You _know_ that having a distracted state of mind is what causes ninety percent of splinching accidents to occur. And given your experience with it back in our Seventh year, I'd expect you to have a better appreciation for the pain it can cause."

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. That incident had been mostly James' fault – and half a bottle of Firewhiskey's fault – anyway. Yet oddly enough, thinking of that experience – which had ended up with Sirius leaving his left foot in Dublin and his hair in Manchester – served to somewhat calm the butterflies dancing in Sirius' stomach. Enough that he was finally able to form a coherent train of thought and reply to his friend.

"Phaw! That's ancient history, Remus. There's no need to worry about it. I'm as fit as a fiddle and am good to go." Sirius flashed his most winsome smile at the other man as he spoke. "Just look at me! I'm a paragon of beauty and mighty wizardry, am I not?"

All Sirius got in return for his charming attempt at humour, though, was a deadpan stare. Remus was not amused while the way he was tapping his wand indicated that a hex or three might soon be headed in Sirius' direction.

Sirius' winsome smile faded at that and returned to its previous grimace. "Don't look at me like that, furball! Everything is under control. Really!"

"Uh huh. _Sure_ it is," Remus said as he rolled his eyes. "And before you go calling _me_ a furball, _Padfoot_, you'd better look in the mirror the next time you transform."

Oho. Now there was an opening for a terrible joke if Sirius had ever seen one. Hoping that it might help to relieve his inner tension, he reached deep into his bag of bad puns and let one rip. "Of course I'm calling you that, Moony. 'Cause I'm Black!"

"Huh? 'Cause you're… ugh! You did not do that just now, did you?" It took him a moment, but Remus gave out a pained groan once he caught on to Sirius' horrible joke. "God, Merlin, Morgana – someone! Anyone! Please take mercy on me for dealing with this _bloody_ idiot. Why couldn't Azkaban have done anything for your terrible sense of humor? _Why?_ That pun was worse than your stupid 'of course I'm serious, it's my name' routine. You skipped the whole 'pot calling the cauldron' part entirely!"

"Genius knows no bounds, Remus. Don't be jealous of my great self for being so quick on the spot."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever, _moron_. But because that joke was so bad that I can feel my brain hurting, the next time we go out looking for dates I'm bringing along those pictures of you licking yourself."

"Ha! As if that would be a bad thing," Sirius barked out as he gave a hearty laugh. "That'll just show the ladies how flexible I am, and the ladies love a man who can bend and stretch. If you want to get one over on me then you'll need to do a lot better than that!"

Oh yes, telling that joke had been a good idea. Sirius could already feel much of his inner tension beginning to dissipate as he fell into the familiar routine with Remus. But the happy feeling beginning to rise within him was soon dashed when he saw the sly gleam in Remus' eye.

"Then how about I show Harry those pictures from our sixth year?"Remus said with a smile. "You know, from the time where McGonagall caught you and James outside the common room's portrait after the two of you had just…"

His face blanching in horror at the remembered event Remus was describing, Sirius launched himself at the other man. He covered Remus' mouth with one of his hands and frantically shook his head back and forth. "Nope nope nope. Uh uh. That event _never_ happened. It _doesn't_ exist. James and I had a peaceful night's rest that evening, in our dorm room, and did not go anywhere _near_ her private sleeping quarters. End of story!"

Laughing, Remus pushed Sirius' hand away from his mouth. The man's eyes gleamed victoriously.

"Whatever you say, _S__nuffles_," he said with a chuckle. "Just remember that I have far more dirt on you than you have on me… and that I'm not afraid to use when it suits my purposes."

The two men mock glared at each other for a short moment. Then they laughed and shook their heads at one another. Such mock fights were a bedrock portion of their relationship and rediscovering it had been good for both of them. Or at least Sirius hoped that it had been for Remus too, because without the other man's help and support Sirius knew that he would not be even a quarter as healed and sane as he was without the aid of his closest friend.

After a time Sirius's barking laugh trailed off into soft chuckles. Then, feeling better about himself and his own state of mind, Sirius finally spoke to his friend about what was actually bothering him.

"By Merlin's beard, Remus, I hope that we don't manage to scare Harry off." Sirius felt his forehead tighten in worry as he thought about what might happen if Harry did not like his sense of humour, or if he thought Sirius was too boring or dull. "I… I really want him to like it here. To feel safe, and comfortable, and to think of it as a place where he could be fun and happy too."

Remus placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder, his sombre demeanour and words serving to further calm Sirius' nervous stomach. "Don't worry about it, Padfoot. He's a smart young boy. One that, by both his account and the accounts of those closest to him, is very much looking forward to joining us here. Besides, if having the Weasley twins in his life for three years hasn't yet done him in – and the pair of them are as bad as you and James ever were –, then chances are that being around a ridiculous pair of old fogeys like the two of us won't scare him off either."

Sirius gave a snort. "Hey, don't lump my young self in with your aged ass. I've still got another ten or twenty years of youth left in me."

"Riiiiight," Remus drawled as he rolled his eyes. "I'll be sure to tell that to Dora the next time she visits. I'm sure that she'll just _love_ disabusing you of that ridiculous notion."

Then, his face growing serious once again, the man tightened his grip on Sirius' shoulder. "All jokes aside, though, are you sure that you don't want me to come along with you to pick Harry up? I know that we have guests coming soon, but I'm sure that we could ask Andromeda to step in and take care of welcoming people. She's good at it and would be more than happy to help out."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure Remus. This is just something that I have to do on my own. That I _want_ to do. And that I _should_ have done ages ago. Before I went after Wormtail and fell into the bastard's trap." Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as he spoke. "Doing it now… well, it will allow me to set things right. Both for Harry _and_ for me."

Raw emotion dripped from Sirius' voice at the end as his words had come straight from the heart. Sirius had dreamt of making a home with Harry for past decade. It had kept Sirius warm during the long cold nights when he had only the Dementors for company and had only grown stronger since he had left the dreaded Isle.

It was also a recurring topic of his therapy sessions. The professionals he had seen at St. Mungo's thought that it would be a healthy step for Sirius to take. All that had been needed before he took the step was for Sirius to get himself back on his feet and to have a place ready for the young boy to live in as well.

All of which, with the aid of Remus, Andromeda, and Dora, had been accomplished. Thanks to their efforts Sirius was healthier than he had been since the day James and Lily had died. His face and body looked nearly recovered, he had moved into a safe and comfortable home, and even possessed a new Ollivander wand thanks to a trip to Diagon Alley several weeks ago.

Heck, Sirius was even starting to _feel_ like himself again. Living with Remus for the past few weeks had gone a long way in that regard; the sombre man provided Sirius with the perfect comedic foil, a facet of his life that Sirius had missed more than almost any other while imprisoned. The two old friends had laughed themselves silly during the day, gotten drunk a few times at night, and even engaged in childish magical duels. It had been so much like the old days that Sirius had even cried tears of joy a few times, wondering if it was all a dream and whether he was actually still in Azkaban.

Sirius ran a hand through his freshly cut hair as his thoughts went back to his past mistakes. "If I had just kept Harry with me instead of chasing after Wormtail all those years ago, so much could have been avoided. Just think of it. You and I could have had nearly thirteen years worth of memories like we've made in the past few weeks. I never would have gone to Azkaban, you would have never been forced to live on the edges of society, and Harry would have never gone to those _ars__e__hole_ relatives of Lily's. But I was an impulsive idiot and threw it all away."

Sirius turned to look at his friend. In the time since they had begun living with one another he had never said anything like that. Not even once. He had been too afraid, too worried that his oldest friend would judge him for his past actions. But it was something that needed to be said, and it needed to be said before Harry arrived.

After a moment of silent pondering, Remus shrugged his shoulders.

"You could be right, old friend. Life really might have been different if you had made a different choice that night. But the same could be said of a hundred other choices too." Remus twirled his wand in his off-hand while he spoke. "Such as what if Hagrid had refused to take Harry from you? Or what if I had accompanied you to their cottage instead of rushing to check on the Longbottoms? Or what if anyone – Dumbledore, Minerva, Moody, or any other person who knew you – had tried harder to fight for your freedom? Any one of us could have changed the course that history took, but we didn't, which makes us all equally guilty in the faults that occurred later on."

The werewolf placed his wand into a pocket and clapped his hands together. "So let's not dwell on 'what if's' and 'maybes', my friend. If we do, then we'll both need to get drunk again and neither one of us would be in _any_ sort of state to pick up Harry from his relatives. Let alone receive the various guests who are due here any second."

"I don't about you, but a stiff drink sounds good right about now," Sirius said.

Remus began moving off towards the kitchen, his mind returning to the task of preparing their home to receive guests. Seeing him distracted, Sirius tried to make a move towards a nearby liquor cabinet. Only to have Remus shoot him in the rear with a stinging hex! Sirius jumped into the air with an angry howl and glared at his old friend.

The other man merely waggled his wand in Sirius' direction. "Not on my watch! It's time for you to get a move on already so you can bring the boy back to us. I'll make sure to settle everyone in so that the party can give Harry a warm welcome when the two of you make your entrance. Today we will make this a proper home for him, the way both of us _should_ have all those years ago, and the way that it _will_ be from now on."

A small grin made its way onto Sirius' face as he rubbed his stinging ass cheek. "Fine, fine. That sounds good to me too, Moony, so you win for now. I'll bring the little pup back and the two of us will spoil him rotten. Morgana knows that little Dora has been twisting my ear off for not bringing him over sooner, while I know for a facty that everyone else will be happy to see him as well."

"Just be sure not to leave Harry alone with Dora for too long," Remus said pointedly. "I shudder to think of just how she might twist the poor boy. The woman is as bad as you when it comes to things."

"Ha! If only he were so lucky. Any man who can get with a metamorphagus is one hell of a lucky bloke."

"God dammit, Sirius, you know that's not what I meant! Now go on and scoot already before I follow Dora's example and begin hexing your bits instead of your cheeks."

Sirius's lips twitched as he considered throwing in one final verbal jab. But deciding to err on the side of caution for once in his life, Sirius decided to follow Remus' command. He quietly crept away from the man and made his way to the Cottage's entranceway. There, he took a deep breath and prepared himself to leave.

In a well practised gesture, Sirius gently tapped his wand against the side of his head. The light pink flash of a dispel charm shone from its tip before gently fading away. It was an old habit from Sirius' days as an Auror, back when he would cast that spell before and after handling any important situations. A properly applied sensory charm to muddle a person's senses could be just as deadly as a killing curse if it went unnoticed and an Auror who let it happen could only blame themselves for not taking enough precautions.

These days Sirius found that the action mostly served as the magical counterpart to the muggle habit of 'pinching' oneself to make sure that one was not dreaming. Or in his case that one was, in fact, awake, and not under the influence of another magic user.

As Sirius looked around he saw that nothing had changed. That everything was truly real and that one of his dearest dreams was actually about to come true. His breath hitched as he felt a frog grow in his throat. It was a struggle to force it down, but Sirius poured his everything into doing so. Going to the boy's current abode as a weeping, howling mess was the last thing that Sirius wanted at the moment.

"Oh, and before you return with Harry," Remus called out from the kitchen, "make sure to let the Dursley's know that a few of us will be… visiting… them later on in the week to have a second discussion with them. Minerva made it clear to me that she expects to be included and Dora sounded especially enthusiastic when Andromeda brought it up during their visit yesterday."

The various signatories on the initial letter Sirius had written to the Dursleys had all been in agreement that a second, more personal visit was needed once Harry was out of their house. One that would be between adults only.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll handle it," Sirius replied. A feral grin came to his face as he thought about just how he might impart the message to Lily's relatives. "Now get back to pouring that champagne, Moony; Minnie won't be happy if you forget the alcohol."

Deciding to depart before Remus could come up with a reply, Sirius gathered his concentration and left the Cottage with the ear-splitting crack of a successful apparition.

* * *

Harry knew that it was time as soon as a sound similar to that of the Knight Bus rang out in the calm morning air. Only something from the magical world could make a noise like that in a dreary neighbourhood like Privet Drive. Especially on this day of all days.

His heart filled to bursting with joy, Harry ran over to the door and opened it with a beaming smile on his face. A dark-haired man in well-cut wizard robes was walking toward the house with long, loping strides. Sporting a shaggy mane of rich black hair like that of a rocker and bearing a twinkle in his eyes that had been missing when they last saw one another over a month ago, the man was unmistakable to Harry's eyes.

"Sirius!" Harry cried out.

The roguish man in question smiled happily at Harry's cry and bounded the final few steps separating them. Sirius wrapped Harry into a fierce hug the moment he was within reach. A hug that Harry returned with as much feeling as he could pack into his small frame.

"Harry! It's good to see you too. I wish that I had been able to write you more often, but it's been an absolute madhouse over at the Cottage in getting things ready for your arrival. I've been driving poor Remus spare with all of my worrying, and we both know that the mangy ol' wolf could probably do with a little less worry and a whole lot more fun in his life." The older man tousled Harry's perpetually messy hair as he spoke. "But we can chat about the details after I get you to the Cottage. We've got a fun little party planned for you today and I can't wait to get you there!"

"It's okay Sirius. I understand." Harry said. He had been so busy with researching the Game that he had worried that _he_ was the one not writing enough letters to Sirius. "And a there's a party? For me?"

"You betcha, kiddo. There's no way I could let today go without throwing a bash. Remus and I invited some of your friends over, as well as a bunch of other people who know and like you, so it should be one helluva good time!"

The man then looked Harry in the eyes. As he did, Sirius' roguish grin turned into something more… feral. Perhaps it was a trait of his canine form or something he had sported for years. Either way, his roguish face no longer looked quite so charming and Harry felt the hairs on the back of this neck prickle ever so slightly in warning.

"Speaking of good times," Sirius said in an icy tone, "I don't want to ruin that wonderful moment with what will come next. After all, I can't just take you away without properly introducing myself to your three _delightful_ relatives, now can I?"

Nodding, Harry ended the hug and stepped back inside. They had discussed this with one another in the recent letter. Though Harry felt that he had stopped the older man from making good on his death threats towards the Dursleys – threats which had been more than a little descriptive in one of the early letters Sirius had sent – Sirius had still insisted on leaving them with an impression.

It was the one thing which made Harry somewhat uncomfortable in regards to his leaving Number Four Privet Drive. In spite all of the neglect they had given him over the years – the days of starvation, the emotional abuse, and the constant belittling of Harry's parents and heritage – the three of them _had _provided him a home in which to live. For good or for ill, the Dursleys _were_ Harry's family, the only living relatives he had left in the whole wide world.

He might not like them, nor ever want to see them again, but neither did Harry wish to hurt them. Because all Harry truly wanted at this moment was a family. One that would love and support him unconditionally. And now that he was about to get one with Remus and Sirius, Harry did not care one wit as to the Dursley family's future path.

Sirius continued to follow Harry as he led the older wizard into the sitting room. Petunia and Vernon sat on two chairs at the far side of the room, flanking the moderate sized couch taken up by Dudley's obese form. Petunia had dressed in a semi-formal pink dress with floral patterns while Vernon was in one of his usual severe grey business suits. Dudley, meanwhile, wore some terrible ensemble that his mother had created for him. The boy looked like a porpoise stranded on land and the less said about his hair the better.

Vernon's walrus-like mustache bristled the moment he saw the two wizards enter the room. "Alright, boy, let's get this over with already," the large man rumbled out. "I've got a business meeting to get to in an hour, and Petunia will be taking little Duddykins out to visit one of his friends from Smeltings. I'd like to finish this inconvenience as soon as possible so that we can get on with our lives."

Harry let the rude words wash over him. His younger self might have been hurt by them in the past, but not the current Harry. No, to the current Harry they were like the sweetest music he had ever heard. Because he could hear the bluster, present in every word said and left unsaid, and knew that there was nothing – _absolutely nothing_ – his uncle could do to stop this from happening.

"That sounds like a great idea to me too, Uncle Vernon. I don't to drag this out any longer than is necessary either." Harry moved to the side and raised his hands. "Please allow me to introduce my godfather, Sirius Black, who has come to take me away as promised. Sirius, may I introduce my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and my cousin Dudley."

Sirius inclined his head in a minute nod at Harry's introduction. The dark-haired man stared at each one of Harry's relatives in turn, as if committing every aspect of their features into his mind for later use. His handsome face looked hard enough to carve stone.

The Dursleys, meanwhile, stared back rather nervously. Petunia's gaze darted to and fro, while Vernon quickly began to look as though his head had become an overripe tomato.

As for Dudley… well, Harry's bloated cousin seemed rather focused on protecting his rear. He had his hands clamped around it and had shoved his rear so deep into the couch that the poor piece of furniture seemed to be on the verge of breaking. It seemed that Hagrid's lesson delivered before Harry's first year at Hogwarts had never quite gone away. A fact which would undoubtedly make the half-giant extremely chuffed to hear.

Sirius was the first one to break the tension filled air. "Well, I see no need to draw this out either. Harry, please go and fetch your stuff and bring it here. We will leave as soon as you have it down."

Harry gave his godfather a glance. "Are you sure, Sirius? Didn't you want to talk with them before we left?"

"I am absolutely certain, Harry. I can deliver my message while you work, so there's no sense in us wasting the time. Now please hop to it so that we can leave this place as soon as possible."

Harry nodded in resigned acceptance and went upstairs. He had already packed his stuff and sent Hedwig off the night before, which meant that he should be able to bring everything down in short order.

As he moved his trunk and did a final once over of the room Harry faintly heard Sirius speaking. Since it never rose beyond a normal tone of voice Harry figured that nothing important was going on. Several minutes later Harry had everything ready to go and placed in a tidy pile in the middle of the living room. He had been tempted to just stick everything into his Inventory – a super useful feature of the Game that Harry had experimented with over the summer – but ultimately chose against it.

The Game and everything about it was a secret. It also had to be _kept_ a secret, lest someone either accidentally or purposefully let slip its existence to the wrong sort. The sort of person like Lucius Malfoy or some other former Death Eater who would use the existence of Harry's ability to harm him in some way. Because the wizarding world had things in it like memory wiping spells, possibly mind-reading, and who knew what else. Harry planned to take Remus and Sirius into his confidence later on, but for now he would err on the side of caution and do things as was expected of him.

When Harry came down with his trunk and other items, Sirius looked at the small pile with a raised eyebrow. The man then raised his wand and muttered a spell that Harry did not quite catch. "Are you sure that that's everything, Harry? I'm not picking up any storage or spatial-expansion spells."

"Yeah, that's everything of value," Harry said, his face flushing as he spoke. He had never really been much for material goods. Nor had the Dursley's ever given him anything of his own to keep until this summer. "Anything else in the house can stay; it's either too old and ratty or of no interest to me."

Sirius stared at the pile with an unreadable expression on his face. His gaze slowly moved to the Dursleys and pinned them to the cushions of their seats. Dudley's face went white as a sheet when he made eye contact with Sirius and both his parents swallowed nervously. Given the look on his godfather's face Harry feared that something might happen. Especially when he saw Sirius' wand hand twitch.

Then Sirius' face relaxed and he looked at Harry with a calm gaze. Harry gave a sigh of relief at the sight, relieved that nothing would happen.

"Very well. I've finished my business with your aunt and uncle already, so there's nothing left to do on my end for today." Sirius ran a hand through his long locks of hair as he spoke. "Is there anything you would like to say to them before we go? Because while Remus and I are excited to bring you to live with us, Harry, this could very well be the last time that you see the Dursleys."

A myriad of emotions flashed through Harry's body at Sirius' words. This was a moment he had dreamed of for over ten years. One that he had often felt might never come. Yet now that it was upon him, all of his previous ideas on how he would handle it flew out the window. Harry felt his eyes turn misty while a solid lump began to grow within his throat.

There were hundreds of things he wanted to say to them. He wanted to rage at them for having been locked inside of a cupboard for all those years. For having been lied to about his parents, and for being called a freak for being different. He wanted to ask why they had never loved him like they had loved Dudley. To see if there was anything he could have done differently. To know if it had ever been possible for him to gain their affection like he had always wanted.

But in the end Harry tossed those thoughts aside. None of it was important in the long run. For in spite of being family, the only living family Harry had, all of the bridges between them had been torched long ago. Harry did not feel more than a fleeting need to rebuild them. A feeling, he suspected, would never become stronger.

"I hope that you have a happy life. And I hope that we never meet again." Harry turned to face Sirius. "Let's go."

Sirius nodded in silence. The older man tapped Harry's belongings with his wand; upon being tapped, each item disappeared with a sharp crack. Then he proffered his left arm and motioned for Harry to come close. "Grab hold of me with both your hands, kiddo. We'll be leaving by side-along apparition, and it can be disconcerting for the first few times."

With a final look at the Dursleys, seated in a tight cluster as they watched the two wizards talk, Harry felt a single tear leave his misty eyes. He scrubbed it away with one of his sleeves and nodded fiercely. Wanting nothing more in the world than to be gone from this place, Harry grabbed hold of Sirius' robes with both of his hands and tried to prepare himself for the rigours of magical travel.

A single sharp crack later and they were gone.

**A/N:** Thus ends Harry's time at Number 4 Privet Drive. With this short installment the Dursleys are now (mostly) out of Harry's life. And while they still have a minor role to play in things to come, it was never my intention for them to be a major part of this story. The focus is, and always will be, on Harry and those closest to him as they battle against Voldemort and other who would see them dead.

Updated on 2/27/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	18. Chapter 18: Alerts and Notifications

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Eighteen: Alerts and Notifications**

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Leave the Dursleys and Never Look Back**

**Progress:**

**You Have Left Privet Drive and Moved to the Cottage**

**Quest Complete**

**Ding!**

**As a Reward for Completing a Quest You Have Received the Following**

**A Room at the Cottage and a New Family**

**Permanent Freedom from the Dursley's Harassment and Restrictions**

**Gain 5 Levels**

**Ding!**

**Home is Now Set to the Cottage**

**Your Unique Trait 'A Mother's Protection' Has Been Changed as a Result**

**The Trait's Information Has Been Updated to Reflect This Change**

"Welcome home, Harry!"

"Welcome, Harry!"

"Welcome, Mr. Potter."

"Hi, Harry!"

"Wotcher Harry! It's nice to see ya again! Let's get to know each other this time around and be friends, shall we?"

Harry blinked as an avalanche of magic, noise, notifications, and movement washed over him. The after effects of apparition slammed into him as he tried to process everything, causing his body to lurch forward in a discombobulated daze. His foot soon caught on something and he found himself tripping forward uncontrollably. Several voices rang out in surprised confusion as more than one person found themselves joining him on a one way trip to the floor in a tangled pile of limbs.

Not knowing who was in the pile with him or even what was going on, Harry did his best to try and restore his brain to working order. He met with limited success. A pile of soft flesh was soon pressed into his hands as the pile around him constantly moved and shifted. Without thinking Harry gave the fleshy mound a reflexive squeeze.

"Blimey, Ginny, stop groping my bum!" Ron's muffled voice rang out. The mound of flesh in Harry's hand jumped at the same time as though it were a wet cat. "That's not Harry's rear you're fondling!"

"Ewww! That's gross, Ron. Besides, it's not me anyway."

"Urk!" Harry removed his hands, from what he now knew to be Ron's bum, as though they had been burned. "I'm sorry mate. I didn't realize what I was touching."

"Apology accepted. Now stop talking about it and get off'a me already!"

Harry tried to follow his friend's desperately yelled command only to wind up even further entangled within the pile. A rather shapely leg which must have belonged to Ginny smacked Harry in the face, while Harry heard the girl grunt at the same time Harry felt his knee connect with something solid.

After what felt like ages, a chuckling Sirius took pity on them and started to pull the tangled group apart. "Now now, kids, I think that we can save the rough housing until later," Sirius said with obvious amusement as he began pulling on Harry's left arm. "Let Harry say hi to everyone else first before you steal him away for the rest of the afternoon."

Harry, Ron, and Ginny found themselves untangled from one another in short order with Sirius' assistance. After which they proceeded to do their best to avoiding looking the others in the eye and pretend that their impromptu pileup had never happened.

Harry took the initiative to break the awkward silence and avoid talking about what had just happened. "Well, uh, Ron, Ginny, thanks for coming out. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, uh, sure. Anytime mate! I'm just going to check out the food while you and Sirius take care of whatever you need to do."

"Mhm. I'll, um, see you around the party Harry. Congratulations on moving!"

After getting an embarrassed wave from Ron and a quick hug from Ginny, the two redheads moved off to a nearby table stacked with refreshments. From what he could tell both of them had grown over the summer. Ron was sprouting up like a weed, while Harry could have sworn that Ginny's legs had not looked so long and shapely while they had been at Hogwarts. He did not have much time to ruminate on this, as with his friends gone Sirius grabbed hold of his arm and proceeded to guide him towards the rest of the group.

A smiling Professor McGonagall was standing next to Molly Weasley, both women holding half-filled champagne glasses in their hands as they chatted amicably. Standing nearby were Remus and Arthur Weasley. Each held held a still full glass of bubbly in one hand, while the other was placed on the shoulders of one of the Weasley twins. Whom, if their mildly sullen expressions were anything to go by, had apparently already been caught trying to do something to 'liven things up'.

The final pair present was unknown to Harry. One was a young woman with short pink-hair who looked somewhat familiar. He had the oddest feeling that they had met somewhere, but he could not recall her for the life of him. Harry was pretty certain that he would remember someone as odd as her, especially given how she was currently winking at him in an exaggerated manner. The beautiful older woman next to her, who had long brown hair that went well past her shoulders was also familiar looking, but more in the manner that a look-a-like resembled a celebrity. Her well-cut robes had a Slytherin green tint to them while a matching set of gemstones glittered on her neck and wrist.

A warm feeling coursed through Harry's body as he looked around at everyone's smiling faces. It might have only been a small gathering, but it was composed of some of the best and kindest people he knew. That meant more to him than a party of dozens or hundreds could ever mean.

As everyone's gazes turned to him, Harry bowed his head in respect. "Thank you for coming, everyone. It-it really means a lot to me, and I'm happy to have you here!"

"Not half as happy as we are to get you here, Harry," Remus replied with a grin. The normally dour professor currently had the biggest smile on his face that Harry had ever seen on the man and it made him look nearly ten years younger. "Now relax and stop being so formal already. It's a party, so join in on the celebration and have some fun!"

"I'll drink a toast to that," Professor McGonagall chimed in. The rest of the crowd laughed at that and soon several more toasts were proposed and drank by the assembled adults. Harry and the other kids made do with some sparkling apple cider. An affair which only deepened the existing glower on Fred and George's faces.

After the fourth toast had been consumed and the crowd had settled down, Harry turned to Sirius and gently tugged on the tall man's sleeve. Getting the hint, Sirius bent down so Harry could speak into his ear.

"So, um, before we get into this, is it okay if I go and get myself changed and settled in?" Harry made a quick gesture at his outfit. It was composed of baggy, over-sized hand-me-downs from his whale of a cousin. "I'd feel a lot better if I could wear something more normal."

Sirius nodded sharply. "No worries, kiddo. Moony – er, I mean Remus – and I thought that you might like to do that, so the last time we were at Diagon Alley we got you two regular wizarding outfits. It's not much, and we sort of had to guess at your size, but I hope that it'll do until we can take you out for a proper shopping trip next – _oomph!_"

A wheeze of air left Sirius' lungs as Harry crushed the man's chest with a surprise hug. Harry looked up into the man's eyes and, despite the need to regain the air his lungs had just lost, saw them sparkling with happiness.

"Thank you," Harry whispered.

He meant it too. Not only for the kindness and forethought it had taken on their part to purchase the clothes, but also in how the two men had not tried to push anything more onto Harry. A worry of his had been that Sirius and Remus would try too hard. That they would smother him like Molly did whenever Harry visited the burrow. And while that style was wonderful in small doses, Harry had worried about how he would handle dealing with it on a constant basis.

But in just two sentences Sirius had blown that worry entirely out of the water.

"Nah, there's no need to thank me for that," Sirius said in a firm tone of voice. He ruffled Harry's messy hair with one hand while his other wrapped around Harry's shoulders to return the hug. "I'm now your Guardian – in _every _sense of the word – and providing you with a decent pair of clothes is the very _least_ that I could do."

The dark-haired man separated himself from Harry and gave him a light shove. "Now, follow me on up the stairs so you can get yourself changed. Then we can come back down get you started on learning how to work a room! Trust me when I say that it's a skill you'll thank me for when you're older."

The discussion finished, Sirius announced to the group that he would be taking Harry away for a moment so that Harry could freshen up. He then gave Harry's arm a short tug and moved off to a nearby flight of dark wooden stairs. Harry followed behind, watching in fascination as the people assembled to welcome him took Sirius' words at face value and fell back into conversation with one another. Harry also took advantage of the momentary lull in attention to acknowledge the Game's notifications and surreptitiously use Observe on everyone in the crowd. He read the results as he followed Sirius up the large flight of stairs.

To Harry's utter lack of surprise, all of the gathered adults were unreadable to him even with the five additional levels he had just gained from completing the quest. He had already known that Professors McGonagall and Lupin were unreadable to him from his time using the Game feature while at Hogwarts, but it followed that even the less skilled adults such as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be higher in level as well. Age meant having more time to learn and to practice, which in turn probably meant gaining in strength.

The only thing which _did_ surprise Harry was that the vaguely familiar pink-haired girl in the grouping was also more than a hundred levels above him. Considering how that would place her at level 146 at the very least, this in turn meant that the young woman was either remarkably strong for her age or was considerably older than she appeared. Which, considering how Professor McGonagall looked like a mid-thirties muggle woman – while, conversely, the much younger Snape looked like an early fifties muggle man – meant that either possibility was entirely likely.

Meanwhile, when it came to those who were around his own age, Harry received several surprises. According to the Game, though the boy had gained in height Ron's overall level had not changed in the slightest. Stuck at level 25, the other boy's traits were still the same as ever while his stat attributes had also stayed static. If Harry were to hazard a guess, it would be that his old friend was probably following his usual summer routine of sleeping and relaxing. While totally avoiding anything that even remotely resembled school work.

Ginny, meanwhile, had somehow gained two levels over the summer. The cute little redhead was now at level 33! Which, according to Hermione's current theory regarding levels, meant that Ron's sister had either gained access to the Game as well – an event which was _highly_ unlikely – or the young girl had really been working hard at improving herself over the summer.

Harry felt a twinge of guilt as he reflected on that thought but quickly pushed it aside. Rather than growing dispirited or jealous at seeing the fruits of her hard work, Harry would use it to goad himself into growing stronger as well. He _would not _fall behind when it came to hard work and would instead become a better, more reliable person than he had been in the past.

Filled with steadfast determination and a renewed fire for increasing his level, Harry turned his attention to the Game's information on the twins. And came to a dead halt. Because according to the Game, Fred and George were powerhouses!

**Fred and George Weasley**

_**The Terrible Twins; the Demonic Duo; the Pranking Prats. These are but three of the many names given to the twin wizard brothers known as Fred and George Weasley. The two boys are always in the middle of every party, and by the time their first prank has become known they are already busy executing the second one and planning the third. They love to bring smiles to the faces of those around them, and once you have their loyalty you have it for life. (See Character Page(s) for Further Information)**_

**Age: 16**

**Joke Kings**

**Brilliant Inventors**

**Level 65**

**Stats:**

**STR: 64**

**DEX: 60**

**CON: 57**

**INT: 180**

**WIS: 164**

**CHA: 245**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Pranksters**

**Dedicated**

**True Friends**

**Duellists**

**Large Family**

**School Quidditch Stars**

**Twin Bond**

**Ambitious**

**Jazz and Funk Enthusiasts**

**Free Spirits**

After staring at their stats for a moment – and avoiding the thrice cursed 'character pages' section out of a genuine fear for what he might find – Harry brought up his own newly levelled stats page and that of Ginny as well to serve as comparisons.

**Harry Potter**

**Age: 14**

**The-Boy-Who-Lived**

**Heir Apparent to the Potter Family**

**Basilisk Slayer  
Heroic Child**

**Golden Boy**

**Level 45**

**Stats:**

**STR: 57**

**DEX: 71**

**CON: 55**

**INT: 132**

**WIS: 114**

**CHA: 364**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Duellist**

**Survivor**

**Humble**

**Elf-Friend**

**Boy-Who-Lived**

**Half-Blood**

**School Quidditch Star**

**Possessor of a Deathly Hallow**

**Clutch Performer**

**Foe of the Dark**

**Battle Hardened**

**Dark Arts Magnet**

**A Mother's Protection**

**Weak Familiar Bond (Hedwig)**

**Peverell Bloodline**

**Walking Target**

**Oblivious One**

**Parseltongue**

**Headstrong**

**True Friend**

**Negotiator**

**Dedicated**

**Horcrux**

**Gamer**

**Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley**

**Age: 13**

**Level 33**

**Stats:**

**STR: 51**

**DEX: 70**

**CON: 60**

**INT: 72**

**WIS: 49**

**CHA: 81**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Survivor**

**Headstrong**

**Large Family**

**Only Daughter**

**True Friend**

**Clutch Performer**

**Boy-Who-Lived-Fangirl**

**Amateur Quidditch Player**

**Life Bonded to Harry Potter (One-sided)**

**Former Horcrux**

**Pureblood**

**Free Spirit**

**Dedicated**

The twins were exceptional. They had some of the highest and most well-rounded stats Harry had yet seen, two titles, and far more traits than seemed to be the norm for people their age. Harry made a mental note to keep them in mind should anything crazy happen in the upcoming school year. Because while the two troublemakers were more interested in jokes and playing around, Harry felt that he would be able to count on them in a pinch.

A gentle tap on his shoulder brought Harry out of his daze. Looking up into Sirius' bemused eyes, Harry gave a bashful grin and nodded that it was okay to continue walking. He closed out the remaining text and notifications from the Game and resumed his climb.

"Alright kiddo, this is it," Sirius said as they reached the top of the staircase. "Third floor is where the living quarters are situated. Right now it's only you, Remus, and me who're living here, but there're enough rooms for at least ten more people to move in if we need it. Or more if we were to employ expansion charms, but those can get a bit tricky to do when there are existing charms and wards already in place."

Harry paid close attention to what the older wizard was telling him. This was going to be his new home and he had the feeling that Sirius and Remus had worked hard to make things as nice as possible for him. He would need to remember everything his godfather said so that he could properly thank them after everyone had left.

Sirius gestured towards the rooms spaced out along both sides. "Remus took one of the small rooms on the left-hand side – the daft moron refused to take one of the bigger rooms, probably due to some misguided notion of guilt or some such nonsense – while I'm located in the master bedroom at the end of the hall to your right. You'll be able to tell which ones we're in as the House Wards have a nifty little feature that writes a person's name in gold filigree across whichever room the person claims as their own."

The dark-haired man gave Harry a wink before continuing. "Given that I keyed you into the wards while we were walking just now your name should already be in place. Your room is the second largest one in the house and is located directly across from Remus' on the left." Sirius started to walk towards it as he spoke, but paused for a moment to nervously scratch his head. "We, uh, weren't quite certain which room you would like, so, if you'd like to switch out, then, um, just let us know and we'll help you move everything. Don't worry about any hard feelings either, because we just want you to be happy. Okay? This is _your_ home now, and I – er, _we_ – want you to feel welcome and comfortable in it."

Harry blinked away a sudden onrush of moisture at Sirius' words. He felt a sudden urge to hug Sirius yet again and had to fight against the sniffle threatening to tear itself loose from his throat.

He had hoped, and longed, for something like this to happen for longer than he could remember. To have someone care about him, his wants, and his desires. To suddenly have it placed in front of him… well, Harry was at a loss for how to deal with it.

Holding the conflicting desires and emotions within himself, Harry ducked his head and nodded. His voice was choked with emotion as he replied. "Yeah, Sirius. It's – it's okay. Don't worry about me. I promise that I'll love the room no matter what you and Remus have done to it."

From the corner of his eye, Harry caught how Sirius' face perked up at the words. "Alright then! As I'm not usually one to drag things out, let's just go on in."

At Sirius' urging, Harry took the lead and made his way down the hall. A thick, dark wooden door with words stencilled in beautiful golden filigree soon appeared before him. Harry gently ran his fingers across it in wonder.

_Harry James Potter_

_Heir_

Assuming that the 'heir' portion referred to his status as the Potter Heir, Harry placed his hand on the door's elegant golden handle. After a deep intake of breath he then twisted the smooth knob and pushed it inward.

What appeared before Harry's eyes was like something out of a dream.

Deep violet sheets and golden pillows drew his attention to the giant bed situated in the middle of the room. It stood out against the dark wooden walls, much of which were covered in fanciful tapestries, and the heavy woven rugs dotting the floor. A simple tea table was situated next to a modest window that had its heavy curtains pulled to the side, allowing the sun's warm light to enter the room. Its bright rays glinted off of exquisite silver inlays set throughout the room.

But what really grabbed Harry's attention were the various things spread throughout the room.

There were at least three different stations set up throughout the room. One station had a small lamp on it and looked long enough to hold a broom on it. Closer inspection revealed that this was, in fact, on purpose, as the top had little hooks to hold a broom. All sorts of related supplies, like clippers and replacement twigs, were filed nearby. There were even a few new copies of books on broom maintenance and care neatly stacked on its top. Harry felt his hands twitch at the sight, imagining what it would be like to work on his Firebolt at a proper bench for once instead of on top of his bed.

A second workstation was clearly intended to be for studying. Various books on spells filled a bookcase situated to the left of it, while a mostly empty bookshelf to the right hinted at future books to be added. It was more space than Harry had ever had to work with before, and he could not wait to write to Hermione about it. The book-loving girl was sure to be utterly jealous of him over it, and Harry gained a smile from imaging her future tirade on the subject.

The third station, though, was a bit of a mystery. It had a simple table as the main bit of furniture, but unlike the others it was covered with a number of gadgets and gizmos that looked vaguely muggle in origin, but were clearly magic in function. The strange items somewhat reminded Harry of the odd collection in Professor Dumbledore's office.

As Harry continued to look around he noticed a small door in the corner furthest from the window appeared to lead into an adjoining bathroom. He caught sight of a sink fixture and what looked like an old-fashioned giant copper bathtub. He blinked at the sight of it as he had only ever associated such extravagance with old money and not with himself. But he supposed that it should only have been expected given what Harry had seen of the house thus far.

The final twist to the room got a barked laugh out of Harry. Nearby a second window, one which was large enough to have its own balcony, was the fanciest owl perch Harry had ever seen. The thing was an ostentatious and convoluted mess that looked fit for an empress and Harry just knew that his familiar would love it.

His supposition was soon proven correct when he spied the owl in question already roosting within its gilded eaves. Hedwig greeted Harry with a sleepy hoot when he walked closer and gave her feathers a soft stroke. He then looked around the room in stunned silence while continuing to pet her.

It was like someone with far too much money had gone to Diagon Alley and tried their best to spend it all. So much so that Harry found himself overwhelmed by it all.

Sirius must have realized this; the man's cheeky voice rang out in Harry's ears after a few minutes had passed. "Well, it seems like Moony and I were a mite more successful than we first thought. Just so you know, the book stuff was his idea while the broom area was my own. A few others helped out as well – Andromeda and Dora did the colour scheme while Moody and Albus did that weird little area in the corner – and they'll all be chuffed to learn that you like it. Especially Hagrid, as he's the one who recommended the perch that your bird seems to have taken quite the liking to."

Hedwig stiffened under Harry's hand and turned a single baleful eye in Sirius' direction. She gave the man a single warning hoot before closing it and resuming her rest.

Glad that his proud familiar had taken the higher road and not responded to the accidental insult, Harry turned around and met Sirius' eyes. Harry gulped as he tried to think of what words he could possibly use to describe how he was feeling at the moment.

"I-I don't know what to say," Harry said quietly. "Except thank you. To you, and to Remus, and to everyone else who helped with the room. Because this… all of it… even the bed and Hedwig's perch.. it's all just… just more than I ever dreamed possible for myself."

Leaving his spot by the door to stand next to Harry, Sirius reached out to gently tousle Harry's hair. "That'll be good enough kiddo. It's usually best not to overthink things and to just go with the simple stuff. You'll often be happier that you did. Trust me on it."

Sirius then clapped his hands together and waggled his dark eyebrows. "Now get on over to that armoire and change already. You'll find some slacks in the bottom drawer and a nice shirt in the one above it. I'd usually suggest a matching robe for an event like this, but I have a feeling that those friends of yours and my darling younger cousin will end up dragging you off outside for a spot of fun at some point and robes would just get in your way. I'll meet you downstairs when you're all done, so take your time and don't rush."

* * *

Sirius did a hop-skip from Harry's room, feeling as though his pulse was racing a million miles an hour. When showing the boy his new room Sirius had felt more nervous than at any time since James and Lily's wedding. All those times Sirius had made fun of Lily and James when Harry had been born, or Frank and Alice when Neville had come around, now felt like the first part of some cosmic joke the universe was playing on him. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief to wipe a light sheen of sweat from his brow.

After making sure that all of the sweat was gone, Sirius neatly folded and tucked the handkerchief back into its designated pocket. Then, rather nervously, he reached into another pocket to make sure that Harry's other gift was still safe within.

The thin slips of paper which greeted his questing fingers immediately calmed Sirius' remaining restlessness. He had brought them along just in case Harry had not been pleased with the new room, but given the boy's evident excitement Sirius had chosen to save their presentation for later. Sirius thought the boy would be pleased with the tickets, and both Remus and Minerva had assured him that they agreed with Sirius' thinking, but one never knew about these things until the moment arrived.

Then, with his head and heart full of complicated emotions, Sirius made his way down the stairs and back to the party and resumed his role as party host extraordinaire. It had been a long time since he was able to take on the role and today would serve as excellent practice for whenever he decided to make his return to Magical Britain's party scene.

* * *

Alone in his room, Harry took a deep breath and looked at Hedwig. "Well girl, I'm glad to see that you've taken to things so easily. I don't know if I can adapt quite so quickly, though, so any advice you can give me on the subject will help."

Hedwig popped her snowy head from beneath her wing to peer at him with large eyes. The owl pushed her face into Harry's hand and gave a gentle trill of affection. Then she pushed his hand away with wing and hid under it once again.

"Yeah, that definitely sounds like good advice," Harry replied with a chuckle. The beautiful owl made a soft noise that he took to be agreement, but kept her head down as she fell off to sleep.

Whether it was a part of the Game of Death or a function of their mutual bond, Harry actually had understood Hedwig's intent. Which was that he was finally living somewhere safe and with people who genuinely cared for him. And that rather than moping about alone in his room and bothering the sleepy owl as she tried to rest, Harry should do what Sirius had suggested and get back to the party below as soon as possible.

Harry turned around to look at the room. It truly was incredible. Remus and Sirius had clearly gone all out with it and the additions made by everyone else were fantastic. But, now that he finally had a chance to be alone, there was one final thing he wanted to do before changing. He dug into his back pockets and fished his wand out with a grin. It was time to use Observe and see what the Game of Death could reveal to him about his new room.

His first target was the broom station. Then came everything else, with Harry saving the table with the items from Professor Dumbledore's for last. And since it looked like he would have some peace and quiet for a bit Harry also looked up Fred and George's traits and titles for good measure.

_**Joke King:**_

_Any person with this title is a king of humour. They live to bring a smile to the faces of others, and find joy in making the world a happier place. Gives an automatic +100 to the charisma attribute, +50 to the wisdom attribute, +20 to the intelligence attribute, +2000 reputation points with anyone who has the Prankster trait, -2000 reputation points with anyone who has the Iron Fist trait._

_**Brilliant Inventor:**_

_Any person with this title is more than just talented at inventing. They are incredible at it! They think outside of the box and come up with revolutionary ideas on an almost daily basis. It's too bad that most of them are either impossible to make or would cost too many resources. However, the few that are usable could change the world. Gives an automatic +50 to both mental attributes._

_**Prankster:**_

_A person with this trait is irrepressible, to the point that people often call them irresponsible. They love to joke and have fun, and will play pranks on those around them. Gives an automatic +35 to charm, +5000 reputation points with other pranksters, and -5000 reputation points with those who dislike pranks or rule breaking. This trait can be removed or changed over time._

_**Twin Bond:** _

_Any person with this trait has a twin and shares an exceptionally close bond with them. They can finish each others sentences, speak without words, and know what the other is feeling at a glance. Gives +50% speed to learning any skill or spell that the other twin possesses or is interested in learning. This trait can only be removed with the death of a twin._

_**Jazz and Funk Enthusiast:** _

_Any sapient creature with this trait enjoys listening to the Jazz and Funk musical genres. They are likely to talk about it at length should the subject ever come up. __This trait can be removed or changed over time._

**Ding!**

**Hedwig**

**Owl of Wisdom**

**Age: 5**

**Level 45**

**Stats:**

**STR: 28**

**DEX: 72**

**CON: 46**

**INT: 85**

**WIS: 119**

**CHA: 108**

**Traits:**

**Ruler of the Roost**

**Loyal**

**Dedicated**

**Headstrong**

**Weak Familiar Bond (Harry Potter)**

**Clutch Performer**

**Ding!**

**Professional Grade Broom Maintenance Station**

**Traits:**

**Stain Resistant**

**Minor Magic Resistance**

**Minor Physical Damage Resistance**

**Gives +20 to Broom Maintenance Skills When Used**

**Highly Comfortable**

**Ding!**

**A Magical Scholar's Study Station**

**Traits:**

**Stain Resistant**

**Minor Magic Resistance**

**Minor Physical Resistance**

**Gives +50% Ability to Learn New Magical Spells When Used**

**Highly Comfortable**

**Ding!**

**Ancient Armoire**

**Traits:**

**Stain Resistant**

**Minor Magic Resistance**

**Minor Physical Resistance**

**Ding!**

**The Common Book of Spells, Grade 4**

**Ding!**

**A Beginner's Guide to the Mental Arts**

**Ding!**

**A Self-Sizing Royal Bed**

**Traits:**

**Highly Comfortable**

**Size Expands to Fit Its Occupant's Needs**

**Ding!**

**A Magical Tapestry**

**Traits:**

**Changes with the Seasons**

**Ding!**

**A Magic Golden Knob**

**Traits:**

**Magical Lock**

**Ding!**

**A Wooden Rubbish Bin**

Harry used Observe with abandon on the room. Nothing was too small or too odd to use it on. And once he got over his surprise at seeing Hedwig's stats – she had a higher wisdom stat than he did – Harry read every screen with childlike glee.

"Seriously, the two of them went all out on this place," Harry said aloud. He was so excited that he could not help himself; he jumped into the air and punched out with his fist. "The broom and study stations alone must have cost a fortune, not to mention this bed! This has to be the best room ever!"

Doing his best to regain his shattered composure and feeling thankful that no one was around to witness his childish display, Harry turned to face the final table. The one containing all of the strange gadgets and doodads from Professor Dumbledore and someone named Moody. Which, now that he thought about it, was really a very strange name. But since it was not the first strange name that Harry had encountered since coming into contact with magic, Harry ignored it and focused on the man's items.

Several Harry was already familiar with. One such item was an Auror Grade Sneakoscope – which was just a _really_ powered up version of the type Harry was already familiar with – and another was a case containing a dozen batches of unkeyed polyjuice potion. The man had even included a brace of muggle military grade flash grenades!

Three of the new items, though, certainly caught his interest.

**Ding!**

**Portable Defensive Ward**

**Casts a Powerful Dispel on all Active Magic in a Radius of Two Meters of a Specified Location while Placing Anti-Jinx and Anti-Apparition Wards**

**Can Only be Triggered Upon Breaking**

**Traits:**

**One-Time Use**

**Disguised**

**Ding!**

**Emergency Portkey**

**Near-Instantly Transports the User to a Predetermined Location Upon Activation**

**Traits:**

**Keyed to the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts**

**Ding!**

_**Wandlore: The Core of Magic**_

_**by Garrick Ollivander**_

**Traits:**

**Magic Book**

**Anti-Theft Charms**

**Magic Resistance**

**Physical Resistance**

**Locked**

Harry looked over these three items with great interest. The book by the quirky old man who had sold Harry his wand had a handwritten note next to it, but Harry chose to look at the other two items first. And after a quick use of the 'Help' feature their purposes seemed rather obvious.

The portable defensive ward was in the shape of a common muggle treat, a jawbreaker. It was even contained in a plastic wrapper that you could find from almost any local grocery store that carried them. Yet when Harry gave it a test squeeze he found that the object was rather brittle when compared to a normal jawbreaker. He guessed that it was intended to make it easier for him to break at an opportune moment.

The portkey, meanwhile, made Harry grimace. Harry had never used one before, but when considering his poor luck with Floo travel and Apparition he felt that travelling by a portkey would probably not be any better.

Still, being able to leave nearly any location and go directly to the Dumbledore's office _was _pretty handy. There had been several times over the past three years where Harry had desperately needed to contact Dumbledore and been unable to enter the older man's office. And while Harry dearly hoped that this year would prove to be different, he had a feeling in his gut that it would just be business as usual.

Which meant more dangerous situations with a high possibility of his winding up either dead or grievously injured.

As for the other items on the table… well, most of them made little sense to him even after Harry read the Game's descriptions, so he decided to them aside for the time being. They were mainly comprised of the strange devices which looked as though they would be at home in the Headmaster's office, and Harry figured that he could always ask the Headmaster about them later on.

Harry took the portkey, the defensive ward, and six of the potion bottles into his hands. Then, after a quick glance around to make sure that no one had snuck into his room while he was distracted, Harry whispered aloud a single word.

"Inventory."

The instant he whispered the word, a soft greyish-white glow sprang into existence in front of him. Harry then dropped the items inside and whispered the word a second time. The grey-white glow vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving not a single trace behind that it had ever existed at all.

Harry allowed himself a single nod of satisfaction at the result. The Inventory feature of the Game could only store about twelve cubic meters of non-living material – which Harry had discovered after asking the Game's Help feature – but that was more than big enough to hold a number of items.

Over the summer, Harry had already placed some of his more important items inside the Inventory, along with an emergency supply of food and water which never seemed to spoil with the passage of time. It was an ace in the hole that he had not even told Hermione about as Harry had worried over someone intercepting one of their letters. So until he could see her in person yet again, or until he brought Remus and Sirius in on the Game, it would remain Harry's little secret. The defensive items from the Headmaster and this Alastor Moody person would easily fit inside of it with room to spare.

As for the book on Wandlore that still remained… Harry was utterly confused by its presence. He picked it up to try reading the first page and found the first page to be blank. As was the second page. And the third. As well as every other page afterwards. Harry set it back down with a puzzled frown on his face.

In the hope that it might shed some light on the strange book, Harry picked up the note which had been placed beside it.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this note, then I can assume that you have safely made it to the room prepared for you by Remus and Sirius. I am sure that your new home will be filled with love, and hope that you find in its halls that which you so very much deserve: happiness._

_An old friend of mine by the name of Alastor Moody – whom, I might add, happens to be an Auror of some repute – and I contributed to your new home by providing you with some rather potent defensive items, as well as updating the Wards which surround it. It is our hope that you will never need to use the items we have given you, but there are times when one cannot be too careful._

_The shadows of our world lengthen by the day and not even I know what might happen next._

_Our promised talk will happen at the end of August. I have reason to believe that the Dark Lord's followers have a plot afoot and have given what little free time I have to unravelling its tangled yarn. And though I know you to be a capable wizard, I implore you to keep your safety in mind and to never wander alone._

_With Great Affection,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_P.S._

_Mr. Ollivander's book is a mutual gift from the two of us. It also represents a puzzle for you and your friends to solve._

_I look forward to discussing its contents with you when that day finally comes._

Harry stared at the note. He reread it and then reread it again, hoping against hope that he had misread it the first time. Then, after it revealed nothing new to his angered mind, Harry placed the note down and let out a sigh of frustration.

It was great that Dumbledore had helped to set up the defences at the Cottage. His presents were also nice, as were the kind sentiments written within the letter.

But another part of Harry could not help but be hurt by it. The kindly old man in whom he had placed his trust had promised Harry that the two of them would talk about things over the summer. And though he appeared to be keeping his word – the books he had given Hermione had showed that the old man was making an effort –, and though Harry knew that Dumbledore was a terribly busy man, Harry had still hoped to have their discussion sooner rather than later.

As it was, the situation felt as though Dumbledore was squeezing Harry in because he had to, and not because he wanted to. A feeling which was never pleasant and all too common from Harry's time spent living with the Dursley's.

After taking a deep, calming breath Harry tried his best to put both the book and the note out of his mind. He walked over to his shiny armoire and opened its heavy drawers. After looking inside for a moment Harry pulled out a nice pair of black slacks and an emerald green shirt that matched his eyes, along with with a brilliantly cut maroon wizard's robe. He ran his hands over the silky smooth material and smiled. He was sure to make an impression wearing them and gave silent thanks to his godfather and the other's for thinking to include them.

Then he stripped off the old cast-offs he was currently wearing and donned the new clothes with a smile before making his way back to the party below.

**A/N:** As of this posting (9/20/2019), this story is officially over 240 reviews, nearly 800 favorites and 1200 follows, and has over 100k views. Phew! Those are milestones that I never thought to reach with this story (or any on this website), and I am both happy and honored that this story has become so popular. Today is an especially important day for me because it also marks the 1 year loss of someone very important in my own life, and I am glad to be able to celebrate it with even a small personal accomplishment.

Man did this chapter go heavy on the Game related stuff XD. I don't plan to go this heavy on it very often, but every now and then it _is_ a highly useful tool to just blast things out. And besides, if any of you had an ability like that then I guarantee that you'd probably end up using it on something far more dumb than the rubbish bin in your room lol.

Meanwhile, some of you might be asking yourself "Whoa, I thought that this dude loved Dumbledore. Why is he suddenly making Dumbles out to be a piece of trash?" My answer to that is simple: like I said in an earlier author's note, my take on Dumbledore is a complicated one. It follows, then, that my portrayal of him would be complicated as well. Which means that in the short term his personal reputation with Harry is going to take a few hits.

As to the long term outcome… RAFO!

Next chapter is the actual party. Look forward to a multitude of fun and shenanigans, as well as my first attempt at writing a Quidditch match :3

Updated on 2/28/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	19. Chapter 19: A Party to Remember

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Nineteen: A Party to Remember**

The moment a freshly-dressed Harry stepped off the staircase on the bottom floor he was pounced on by Sirius. The dark-haired man had a slight grimace on his face, but before he could do more than open his mouth he was bodily shoved aside by a red-cheeked Mrs. Weasley. The stout matriarch grabbed Harry into a warm hug which Harry, long used to the woman's displays of affection, suffered through it with good grace.

"Oh Harry! You look absolutely dashing in those clothes! Have you gained some weight? You must have." Molly Weasley prattled on non-stop as she squished Harry tightly to her pillowy chest. "Considering what those _awful_ people have done to you in the past I was just so worried for you when you first arrived. But it seems like this summer was different and I couldn't be happier for it!"

Harry politely murmured something in reply, but squished as he was between her large breasts his voice came out rather muffled. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley continued speaking as though Harry had said nothing.

"It's about time that those dreadful muggles started treating you right. That letter Sirius wrote them – Arthur and I signed onto it as well – must have had an effect. And while I will admit that I was a bit trepidatious at first – I mean, threatening defenceless muggles is something more like what a Death Eater might do, not good and proper witches and wizards like Arthur and I – if this is the result of it, then I have no regrets at having added my name to the list of signatories."

Harry felt more than heard Sirius' chuckle as his godfather replied. "Well, your gratitude is appreciated, Molly, but I think that you need to release Harry from your embrace. The poor boy looks like he's beginning to suffocate in there."

Harry resurfaced from the warm valley when Mrs. Weasley pulled out and stuck him at arms length. She studied his face closely. Then, with a curt nod, the woman returned him to the hug. "Nonsense Sirius. The boy needs all the love that he can get and that is _just_ what I am giving him."

"Nevertheless, Molly, I think that it's time to let him go. It would be rude to keep the other guests waiting any longer."

Mrs. gave a soft cluck at Sirius' words. But several seconds later she released Harry from her embrace. The stout redhead gave him a final warm smile before inclining her head in Sirius' direction. "Fine. I guess that I can always give Harry another hug once all of his introductions have finished."

"That's the spirit Molly!" Sirius clapped a hand to Harry's shoulder and began to pull him away. "Now, let's be off kiddo. The other guests await the magnificence of our presence."

Harry shot Sirius a look of gratitude as they walked away. The older man chuckled and tousled Harry's hair. "Trust me kiddo, I understand. Molly is a wonderful woman, but sometimes she can be a bit… much."

Harry nodded his head fervently. But out of a desire to avoid criticising the one adult woman in his life who had shown him endless affection, Harry bit his tongue and looked forward.

The first person Sirius guided Harry to see was Professor McGonagall. The professor's jet black hair had been styled into an elegant bun that exposed her slim, pale neck. Combined with her set of flowing red and green robes, and a golden necklace which descended into the valley of her impressive bosom, it gave the usually austere woman a regal look completely different from any that Harry had ever seen on her.

The drastic change in appearance caught Harry so off-guard that he failed to return her initial greeting and ended up being scolded by the formidable woman, much to Sirius' amusement. But while Harry listened to her scold him for his lack of manners, he realized that he could finally see why the older boys always placed her just behind Professor Sinistra as the sexiest teacher at Hogwarts. With the different hairstyle and outfit, Minerva McGonagall was gorgeous. Or in the words of Ron, 'definitely fanciable'.

But that moment of attraction passed as the professor's light tongue-lashing settled in. No matter what she looked like or how she dressed, the woman was still terrifying to him. A fact which was only further underlined when she pinned him to the spot with her usual steely stare.

"Poor manners aside, Mr. Potter, I must say that I was pleasantly surprised by the contents of your letter this summer. And while I greatly approve of your decision to drop Divination – a rubbish field if ever there was one, and why it is still taught at our school is _beyond_ me –, whatever could have convinced you to take up the field of Enchanting in its stead? Enchantments are a rather esoteric field of study that most wizards and witches do not encounter until _well_ after they have finished their basic schooling."

Unsure of what to say, and still smarting from her scolding, Harry gave a slight shrug. "Well, uh, I just thought that it sounded rather interesting. From what Hermione and Remus – I mean, Professor Lupin – described, its supposed to be one of the best fields of study out there."

Minerva McGonagall gave a pleased nod at his reply. "It is indeed, Mr. Potter. Many famous wizards and witches, including the legendary Merlin and Morgana, have made a study of its tenets. I myself am well versed in it. But," and at this point her steely stare returned, "while I think that it _is_ a good choice on your part, I want to impress upon you that studying it shall require a _much_ higher level of academic commitment from you than you have consistently shown in the past."

Harry winced at that last statement. It was, after all, quite deserved. After all the times he had skived off with Ron or put off doing his revisions so he could talk Quidditch with Seamus and Dean, Harry knew that the professor's point was not without merit. Besides, the gorgeous professor had never been one to mince her words. Harry just felt grateful that he was not getting an even harsher tongue lashing over it.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said with as much confidence as he could place into his voice. "I promise that you'll see a completely different version of me in your classroom than you have in the past. I mean to study more, to _do_ more, this year than I have in the past. Being a better student is a goal of mine and I know that you will be pleasantly surprised by the results."

"A wonderful promise to be sure, Mr. Potter. And one that I look forward to seeing you keep." The strict professor finally seemed to soften as she gave him a gentle smile. "But I do hope that you will manage to keep your irrepressible charm intact. I adore Ms. Granger and her commendable attitude towards studying, but having two such students in the same year would be far too much. You are who you are, Harry, and you should not try to change yourself overmuch."

"Cheers to remaining an irrepressible scamp forever, says I! He'll be a chip off of his father's block by the time I'm through with him," Sirius chimed in with glee. "Now where's Remus? Needs to be in on this too. Besides, he's the man with the champagne!"

"That's a lovely idea, Sirius, even if I do dread what your influence might be upon the poor boy." Professor McGonagall had a wry expression on her face as she chuckled at Sirius' antics. "But do make sure to include some sparkling cider with it as well. Harry is still far too young to be drinking."

"Oh lighten up Minerva. You're only young once after all." Sirius responded playfully.

"But some of us, it would seem, are destined to never grow old at heart." A smiling Remus Lupin wandered over with a tray of glasses and inclined his head in greeting. "It's Harry's party and we're not his professors at the moment – let the boy live a little."

Unfortunately, and in spite of Harry's hopes to get a taste of the beverage being offered to him, neither Sirius nor Remus were the equal of a determined Minerva McGonagall. A grumbling Sirius made the toast and leaned down afterwards to tell Harry that he would sneak him some of the 'good stuff' once the stern professor had departed. That little comment earned the dark-haired man a fierce scolding that soon had Harry laughing, especially when the professor slipped him a wink when Sirius was not looking that let Harry know it was all in good fun.

Afterwards, Harry and Sirius parted from her company and followed Remus over to where Mr. Weasley and the twins were waiting. Mr. Weasley had smiled at Harry and congratulated him on moving to his new home, saying how he would miss having Harry at their home for the remainder of the summer. That bit had nearly brought Harry to tears and he had made sure to thank the kind man properly for his graciousness in freely taking Harry into his home over the previous summers.

Mr. Weasley, though, had waved off Harry's stammered thanks with a kind smile and mentioned that he looked forward to having more regular access to Harry. Thanks to some recent paperwork filled out by Remus the Cottage was now an official part of the Floo network; which meant that instead of having to fill out reams of official paperwork in order to use magic while in Muggle areas, all it would take would be a toss of Floo powder a jaunt through the fireplace.

That remark, though meant kindly, caused Harry to grimace. He remembered what it felt like to travel through the Floo, and it had not been a pleasant experience in the slightest. Seeing his consternation – and thus seeing an opening for them to exploit – the twins had proceeded to join in on the conversation.

"Hiya Harry! Nice place you've got here."

"It's imperssive mate. Utterly gorgeous. But best of all, both of the adults you get to live with are fun!"

"I know! They're so much cooler than our mum and dad, that's for sure. Remus was telling Fred and me about how he and Sirius were two of the original Marauders!"

"Did you know that? It blew George's mind and nearly did the same to my own!"

"Hold on there, Fred. That's not how I remembered it happening; _you_ were the one who had their mind blown. I clearly remember you babbling something about asking for an autograph too."

"Don't you dare to slander my good name, George. According to _my_ recollection, _y__ou_ were the one crying and asking if they could teach you everything they knew about pranking."

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"Lies! And for that despicable besmirch to mine honour I challenge thee to a wizard's duel!"

"Fine! I shall meet thee on the field of battle at thy convenience, you wretched cad."

"Then have at thee!"

As a comically angry George launched himself at his twin brother, with both brandishing their wands as though they were swords, Harry made sure to give them a wide berth. Once the twins got started it was nearly impossible to get them to stop. Though in this particular case a very amused Harry saw no need to interrupt them.

A laughing Sirius and an openly exasperated Mr. Weasley evidently agreed with Harry, as they too allowed the two boys to fight their mock duel.

After the battle had ended – with both having been 'slain' by the other – Harry and Sirius bade their farewells and moved to the final pair of people in need of greeting. Having already greeted Ron and Ginny upon his initial arrival, the only pair left to greet were the two unknown women Harry had spotted upon arriving. Harry sized them up as Sirius guided him to where the two women stood.

One of them looked young enough to be a fresh graduate of Hogwarts. The young woman had a strong, athletic build to her. Combined with her fair complexion and fine features she was definitely attractive, but it was her infectious smile and outrageously pink-hair that made her beautiful. They gave the girl an air of off-kilter joy that reminded Harry of the twins.

Meanwhile, the older woman standing nearby resembled the girl enough that it was obvious the two were related. But whereas the girl was strong of build and had close cropped hair, the older woman had a willowy figure she paired with a gentle cascade of long brown hair. The woman had the air of an aristocrat about her that reminded Harry of Narcissa Malfoy. The unfamiliar women also had somewhat similar facial features to Draco's stepmother, enough so that Harry wondered if the two could be related.

But unlike Draco's stepmother, the woman before Harry felt less like a beautiful statue carved of ice and more like an elegant swan. She also had an approachable air and warmth to her eyes that reminded Harry more of Sirius. Which was quite odd, since as far as Harry knew Sirius and Draco's mother had nothing in common with one another.

The pink-haired girl, who had been the one to yell 'wotcher' upon Harry's initial arrival, was bouncing from one foot to the other as Harry made his way over with Sirius. But before the clearly excited girl could do more than open her mouth to say something, the older woman silenced the younger one with a tap to the shoulder. The older woman then gracefully curtsied in her fancy, silver-embossed black dress robes before inclining her head in a gentle nod.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter," she said in a formal tone of voice. "My name is Andromeda Tonks and this is my lovely daughter, Nymphadora Tonks. We are extended family members to your godfather and we look forward to getting to know you."

Andromeda raised her head as she lifted out of the curtsy. "Sirius has been kind enough to allow us to visit him on a regular basis since his move to this house, so I expect that we will be seeing much of each other in the coming weeks. If you ever have any questions regarding your schoolwork, the wizarding world, or anything else, then please do not hesitate to ask me for assistance. Sirius has always been dear to my heart, and I can tell upon meeting you that you are a fine and wonderful boy as well."

Her rather formal introduction finished, Andromeda turned to her daughter and made a gesture that Harry took as a sign for the girl to introduce herself. But by the glower she directed at her mother it did not seem as though she wanted to be quite so formal. It brought a grin to Harry's face as he felt a moment of empathy for her; after years of being exposed to Petunia's nasty brand of snobbery, Harry was not one for formality either.

But after a second of exchanging silent words with their eyes, the younger girl's face took on the expression of someone who had been forced to bite into a tart lemon curd. With movements far less graceful than those of her mother, Nymphadora dipped herself into a polite curtsy with a bow of her head.

"It is my honour and the honour of my family to meet you, Harry James Potter of House Potter," she said in a flat deadpan. "As my most respected mother has said, my name is Nymphadora Tonks and I too look forward to the pleasure of getting to know you and yours. Glory be upon your house and may your heirs be fruitful and multiply."

Then, with the speed of a flipped switch, the girl's voice changed from utterly deadpan to overly cheerful. "But as my dear cousin Sirius will tell you, kiddo, you can call me either Dora or Tonks. I'm currently training to be an Auror and if you _ever_ dare to use my full name without my permission then I won't care if you're the saviour of magical Britain or the next coming of Merlin himself! I'll still find a way to string you up in the Great Hall by your pants and send the pictures in to Witch Weekly for publishing in their celebrity gossip pages. Got it?"

Stunned by the speed of her one-eighty change in greeting and not sure what to make of that last bit, Harry looked to Sirius for confirmation. Only to find the man awkwardly looking away and trying not to make eye contac. while Andromeda had a hand over her face as she muttered something about family insanity under her breadth.

Left without guidance from either of the adults, Harry decided to accept the odd pronouncement and nod his head in reply. "Oh, um, okay. Sure thing Dora. It's, uh, it's a pleasure to meet you. And you too, Mrs. Tonks. Thank you for coming."

Andromeda gently massaged her forehead with one of her hands as her daughter gave a crow of laughter at Harry's stammered response. "My deepest apologies, Harry, for my daughter's rather rude introduction. I have tried my best to teach her proper manners over the years, but I sometimes fear that it is a losing battle."

"You'd better believe it mum! Fussy manners are for fussy people, not for gorgeous gals like you and I. It's more fun _to just have fun_ with people than it is to beat around the bush all day."

"And with a mindset like that it's no wonder that I despair of you ever finding a proper husband. Oh how I worry for you."

Nymphadora – or Dora, as she preferred to be called – had a sharp glint in her eye as she opened her mouth to respond to her mother's barb. And while Harry stood there, watching in morbid fascination as Andromeda's eyes gained an equally flinty glint in response to her daughter's look, Sirius hurriedly pushed his way in between the two women.

The tall man placed an arm around the shoulders of both ladies and gave each a charming smile. "Now now, oh beautiful cousins of mine, let's not fight amongst ourselves about such minor things. After all it's Harry's welcome home party today! Let's just relax and enjoy ourselves, alright?"

Andromeda gave a polite sniff as she removed Sirius' arm from around her shoulders. "Very well, Sirius. In the interests of being polite, I _suppose_ that I can allow my daughter's boorish antics to go without further comment. But in return I expect to be invited over more often for tea and biscuits as you have been woefully lax in doing so of late."

Dora, meanwhile, was even more direct than her mother. She rolled her eyes at Sirius and twisted one of his fingers into what looked to be some sort of very painful finger lock. The man's entire body went stiff as a board while Dora slowly moved his arm away from her shoulders.

"I'll agree to not fight with my mum, _cousin_, but only if you let me in on the training that I _know_ you're planning on giving Harry."

"B-b-but if you really do get the apprenticeship then you won't be available most of the time-"

"Doesn't matter! I'll join in when I can, so leave the offer open!"

"Ack! Okay, okay! I promise anything you two wish!" Sirius grunted out as he stood on his tip toes. "Now, please, oh gorgeous and powerful and merciful Auror in training, please see fit to release me."

Dora gave Sirius a lingering glare before letting go of his finger with a flamboyant flick. The man slumped down, his forehead beaded with sweat while Dora gave him a satisfied smirk.

The young woman then turned to Harry and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her grip was just as strong as he had suspected and he was unable to so much as budge. "Now, what do you say that we grab the other kids and get out of here for a spot of fun, huh? I spotted a fresh new Quidditch field in the back and I know for a fact that Sirius put in an order with Spudmore for two full teams worth of brand new brooms."

Harry gaped at her words. "_Spudmore_? As in the makers of the Firebolt Spudmore?"

"Righty-o! So what do you say, Harry? Do you feel up for a challenge?"

Finally having something he could latch onto in the conversation, Harry gave the young woman a massive grin. "In that case, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

* * *

Several hours later found Harry warily eyeing the scene in front of his eyes. What had seemed like a rather bright idea at the time was quickly turning into something else entirely. Something far more competitive than he had initially envisioned when he had gone out for a pickup game of Quidditch.

After he and Dora had grabbed the Weasley kids and informed them of Dora's idea the group had set out for the newly constructed Quidditch pitch. Located well beyond the Cottage's crystal clear pond, the pitch was set against a backdrop of forest and rolling hills that reminded Harry of the Hogwarts pitch. The six youngsters had each grabbed one of the fourteen brand new Firebolt brooms Sirius had ordered – which had caused the four Weasleys, and Ron in particular, to let out whoops of joy and excitement – and split into separate teams. Fred, George and Ron on one side versus Harry, Ginny, and Dora on the other. What had followed was a fun bit of back and forth as the teammates constantly swapped positions and did their best to one-up the other side.

An hour after they had been out there, though, things got a little more interesting. The adults had followed them down earlier to keep an eye on everything, but after an hour spent observing it seemed that some of them had grown tired of just watching.

Professor McGonagall and Sirius, who had been providing a silly play by play, got into a bit of a row. During which Sirius had loudly proclaimed that he and 'the boys' could easily take on 'Minerva and the girls'. At which point the normally stern-faced professor had flatly told the man to put his money where his mouth was or face the consequences.

The two sides had quickly split into separate teams. Harry, Sirius, Remus, Fred and Ron were on one side. Professor McGonagall, Ginny, Andromeda, and Dora were on the other, while George had turned traitor to the boys in order for the numbers to be 'fair.' As for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, neither of whom were very skilled at flying on a broom, the married couple agreed to be co-referees for the match.

After a bit of a discussion between the two sides, and a minor toss-up between the twins when each tried to subtly hex the other, the group agreed to use Professional League rules instead of the Amateur level rules they used for the Hogwarts intramural games; and though George and Ron did their best to catch Harry up on the differences Harry soon found himself lost.

Still, it was the same sport so things could not be terribly difficult, right? In any case the whistle was soon blown, a Professional League legal Snitch was tossed into the air, and the game was then afoot.

Or a-broom as the case might be when in regards to Quidditch. Which, in any event, left Harry in his current position staring down the opposing Seeker. An opponent who was proving to be more difficult than he had initially imagined.

A red-cheeked Ginny was giving him an eager grin, her eyes alight with competitive spirit as the two of them soared through the air side by side. For the first time in his life Harry was having a match with someone where a broomstick did not give someone the competitive edge. And given the skills Ginny was showing off as they flew through the sky, Harry was seriously beginning to reconsider his earlier belief that Gryffindor's Chaser trio was guaranteed to beat the girl out should she wish to make the House team.

"I almost caught you out on that one, Harry!" Ginny called out as she speedily rotated through the air to come up beside him. "You won't be able to get rid of me so easily."

Harry shot the pretty redhead a competitive smirk. Ginny was certainly fun to fly against, but Harry was not about to let her win. "Let's just see about that!"

Putting his money where his mouth was, Harry sent his Firebolt into a dizzying corkscrew as he shot towards the ground. A familiar feeling of euphoria built within his chest as the wind blew through his hair. The Firebolt came out of the manoeuvrer several yards above the turf, upon which he veered sharply to the right the instant he levelled off. The Firebolt shot across the freshly cut grass, his toes hovering just above the waving blades of green.

Above him, Harry heard Andromeda give a cry of victory while Sirius began to curse vehemently. Twisting his head around, Harry saw Andromeda speeding away from his godfather and racing to the goals. Ron waited between them with a nervous look on his face, lips pursed tightly as his broom wavered in the air.

_Slam! _Harry's distraction allowed a well-hit bludger to connect with his left shoulder. The mass of enchanted iron sent him spinning, forcing Harry to wrestle with his broom as he fought through the pain. He barely managed to catch himself just before he hit the turf, his toes touching the fresh cut grass as he shot a glare towards the opposing bludger.

Dora's hot pink-hair waved in the breeze as she sported a Cheshire grin. "Wotcher Harry! It looks like I'll need to introduce you to the concept of Constant Vigilance once we finish this match. It would be a shame if some stodgy Dark wizard or witch were to blast that pretty little head of yours off your shoulders."

"Losers don't get to decide what happens when the game is over, Dora," Harry shot back.

"Then it's a good thing that I'm a winner! Speaking of which, look at my mum go! Woohoo! Go get 'em mum!"

Harry watched as Andromeda faked Ron out and daintily tossed the Quaffle through one of the three hoops. The elegant lady gave a brief victory lap as a cheering Professor McGonagall met her for a mid-air hug. Harry ruefully shook his head at the scene and went back to looking for the Snitch.

After that shot the match settled into a rhythm. Andromeda, who was clearly an exceptional flier, sped around and took shot after shot at their goal with Professor McGonagall acting as her support. To Ron's credit he was able to block most of them, but the sheer volume of shots began to take a toll. The score against them began to inch higher and higher the longer the game wore on.

Remus and Sirius seemed to have excellent teamwork and coordination with each other, but Remus did not appear to be one of the better fliers on the pitch while Sirius was clearly rusty from his time in Azkaban. The brown-haired werewolf often found himself trying to beat back Andromeda on his own while a red-faced Professor McGonagall constantly boxed out Sirius; Harry had learned a few new swear words from his godfather as Professor McGonagall's actions increasingly infuriated the man. Meanwhile, George the traitorous twin was proving to be an adequate enough Keeper to keep the score tilted in favour of the girls' team.

Harry watched it play out as he sped around the pitch looking for the Snitch. Ginny kept hot on his tail the entire time. As the game wore on Harry found that it was increasingly difficult to shake her. In fact, she nearly got _him_ at one point when the small redhead suddenly went into a steep vertical drop that Harry had instantly imitated.

It was only when she suddenly cut her acceleration and pulled up hard that Harry realized he had been had. It was only through sheer luck that he avoided planting himself face first into the grassy pitch. Afterwards Harry had shot the young girl a look of mixed admiration and annoyance for the manoeuvrer.

Ginny, meanwhile, stuck her tongue out in way of reply. Then her eyes gained a dangerous glint of amusement that made warning bells begin to go off in the back of Harry's skull.

"_Blimey_! Harry, watch out!"

Fred's warning came in the nick of time. Harry cut his forward acceleration and went into a drop. The harsh swoosh of a missed bludger passed by his ear, close to raise goosebumps on Harry's skin.

"Dangit Fred!" George called out from his spot by the goalposts. "Why'd you have to warn him? That could have been game and match!"

"Because he's my _teammate_, George!" Fred yelled back. He then pointed an irate finger in his twin's direction. "And I _don't_ want to hear it. I know that the real reason you ditched us was because you didn't want to face this monster in the air again!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Ha! Boys, boys. There's no need to argue with one another. Just because I obliterated you when your ickle bitty team of stuffed lions played against the mighty badgers shouldn't mean that you hold onto a grudge."

Harry watched as Fred directed an unusually sullen look at Dora's smiling features. "Uh huh. Obliterated is a good word alright. You left George with two broken wrists, gave our Seeker a concussion _and_ knocked Wood unconscious. All while leaving the rest of us with bruises that took _week__s_ to fade. I'd _definitely_ call that grudge worthy."

"Oh whatever. You'd better get your head in the game, ickle bitty Freddykins, 'cause here comes another one!"

Swearing explosively, Fred interposed himself between Dora and Harry. He managed to bat away the speeding bludger and directed it at his grinning brother. George was forced to dodge the incoming attack by rolling in the air on his broom, using a type of slack grip that Harry had never before seen. Once he came up, though, the tall boy shook his fist at his brother and yelled some rather choice phrases his way while he was at it.

The budding argument was quickly broken up by the shrill noise of Mrs. Weasley's referee whistle. "Foul! The Beater for the boy's team took an illegal shot at the Keeper for the girl's team when there was no Quaffle in the vicinity. And _shame_ on both of you for using such foul language! I am going to have words with the both of you once we get back to the Burrow if you don't clean your mouths up at once, so help me."

Professor McGonagall took the penalty shot on behalf of the girls, only for Ron to end up blocking it by the tips of his fingers. The young redhead passed the ball to Sirius, who took off in a burst of speed to the opposing goalposts. Remus, Andromeda, and the rest sped off in pursuit, allowing Harry and Ginny to once again resume their search for the Snitch.

It was in the second hour of play that Harry saw a glint of gold hovering in the middle of the pitch. A small portion of uncut grass waved in the wind while a glint of gold flashed from within its green grasp.

Harry mulled over how he could best approach it. With Ginny glued to his backside and Dora beating Fred in the battle of the Beaters, his options were rather limited. Harry knew that he was the superior flier, but the combination of Ginny's impressive skills and Dora's relative dominance changed how he could approach it. And given that this was a League legal Snitch instead of the type he was used to at school, Harry felt certain that the pursuit would be even harder than usual.

To give himself more time to come up with a decision Harry began trying to fake Ginny out more intensely than he had since the beginning of the match. The two young fliers began to put on an aerial display as they went through a dizzying array of manoeuvrers. From corkscrews, to snap-rolls, to sudden dives and bursts of acceleration, Harry pulled out all the stops in his arsenal. Ginny gamely kept up with him for the most part, but a short span of distance between their bodies steadily began to grow.

It was when they were both high above the pitch with Ginny a good fifteen feet behind him that Harry made his move. Spotting the Chasers heading to the centre of the pitch, Harry went into a spiralling dive. His blurred figure flashed through the opposing formations, breaking it up as the four adults swerved to avoid hitting him. A single, short expletive was the last thing Harry heard from Ginny as he left the other flier in his dust. He moved in on the Snitch's location, readying his hand to reach out and grab it.

But as though it knew Harry was coming the crafty Snitch jumped out of its cover and flew straight up. Harry adjusted his course to match, grimacing as he lost speed. Even a tiny bit of momentum could change the outcome of a Seeker's battle and with everyone else mounted on a Firebolt Harry knew that his margin for error was smaller than usual.

The tiny Snitch darted to and fro in the air, forcing Harry to lose more speed as he continued to match its movements. The tiny golden object was leading him on a merry chase around the pitch, but Harry kept up his dogged pursuit. Inch by grudging inch he gained on it, growing ever closer to catching it and ending the game.

His grip tightened on the wood of his broom handle, trying to will more speed out of the device. When the Snitch was barely out of reach Harry pushed his trusty Firebolt hard, letting go of it with one hand as he stretched out with the other. His fingers had touched its golden surface right when his instincts suddenly shouted for him to dodge. But Harry ignored them and clasped his hands around the fluttering object, reeling it in to his chest a moment before a bludger sent him spinning.

Harry spun around in an out of control spiral for the second time that game. Both hands clutched at the handle of his broomstick as he wrestled against inertia with every ounce of muscle his body possessed. But this time his efforts were not enough and Harry slammed into the pitch with a meaty thud.

"Hey! Harry, are you okay? Is everything alright?"

Sirius' shouted voice was laden with concern as he flew over to check him out. Harry woodenly nodded his head before realizing that he was lying flat on his back. He pulled himself upright and looked around. Then, with a grin he had been holding back for the entire game, Harry looked for Ginny to rub in his victory. Only for his jaw to drop the moment he laid eyes on her.

Because clasped within her left hand was the golden Snitch, its tiny wings fluttering softly to signify the end of the match.

* * *

Hermione squinted in annoyance at the latest book held in front of her. Today was the day of Harry's welcoming party to his new home and she was unable to be there. A fact which was _truly_ grating on her nerves.

Her family's trip still had several more weeks left to it before they returned to England. They had finished touring the south of France and were now making their way through the nation's heart. Yet gorgeous as it was, Hermione found that her mind was not on the sights of the French countryside.

Perhaps knowing that their daughter was submerging herself in her magical studies, her parents had recently told her an interesting bit of news. In two days time they had arranged a planned visit to see Beauxbaton's Academy. It was apparently the premier school of magic in France as well as being one of the only remaining all-girl schools in magical Europe. A fact which her mother had recounted with glee.

The school also had an open policy for young witches to visit it. A policy which – according to a copy of _Beauxbaton, a History_ which Hermione had purchased by Owl Post for some light reading – was the result of a centuries old policy established to lure potential students away from rival schools.

Ordinarily, going there would have excited Hermione beyond belief. It was a chance to explore something new and magical with her parents and she was certain that going there would prove to be fascinating. But she would have traded it in a heartbeat if she could have been with Harry instead.

It was with a resigned sigh that Hermione did her best to pay attention to the tome in her hands. Her Ancient Greek had progressed to the point where she could finally read the introductory book in the grouping given to her by Professor Dumbledore and it was already proving to be worth the effort it had taken to learn the language. The Ancient Greeks had been one of the first civilizations to understand and study the effects of people such as Harry with any degree of success; their observations on the subject were proving to be both fascinating and worrying in equal measure.

Hermione picked up where she had left off, mumbling her translation of the words aloud as she read.

"_All who bear the blessings of the gods are inevitably beset with fearsome trials. Passage is said to win the Blessed One glory without end; failure, in eternal infamy. But though the possibility of death or harm is present in every trial, such an outcome is only guaranteed should the Blessed One fail to complete their penultimate test._

_Til now there has only ever been one person to have __successfully passed this__ trial."_

* * *

Several hours later saw the exhausted trio of Sirius, Remus, and Harry collapsed on a trio of sofas in the cottage's living room. Each male was covered in dirt and dried sweat.

"Well lads, despite a few bumps along the way I think that today went fairly well," Sirius said as he sat up with a stretch. "Though I seriously didn't see the final results of that game coming."

"Argh!" Harry yelled into his chosen sofa as Sirius reminded him of their loss. "Why didn't anyone tell me that if you dropped a League legal Snitch it would start to fly again? The ones we have at school stop dead once a Seeker grabs them."

"Didn't Ron and George explain the differences to you? I thought that I heard them mention it."

"Well… but… I mean… argh!" Harry said with all the eloquence of an angry troll. "They might have mentioned it, but there were so many little differences between the amateur and professional rules that they sort of lost me."

At some point during his crash landing, courtesy of one oh so jubilant Dora, Harry had let go of the Snitch. Which had allowed Ginny, who had been flying close behind him, to be in the perfect position to grab it. And since the rules of professional Quidditch differed ever so slightly from the school version Harry knew, the match had turned into a loss instead of a win.

"Ah well. Sometimes that's just how the dice roll, kiddo," Sirius waxed philosophically. "Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. And when you play against the fairer sex, it's been my experience that losing happens more often than not."

Remus groaned in assent. "Don't remind us. And while I always knew that Minerva took Quidditch seriously, I never knew quite _how_ seriously until today."

"Stop! Don't speak that evil witch's name aloud!" Sirius cried out as he melodramatically clapped his hands over his ears. "She'll never let me live this down. Ever!"

"She might have been a terrible shot – I think that she only made two or three goals total –, but you've got to admit that her ability to box you out was something else."

"No, no, no! I don't _have_ to admit anything, Moony. 'Dromeda, at least, was on the Slytherin team back when she was at Hogwarts, so the talent and skill was always there with her; but when was the last time you saw that dusty old professor of ours play a game on a broom? I'd bet it was before any of us were even born!"

Harry stayed silent, but he could certainly empathize with Sirius' fervour. Between Dora being a former demon on the pitch who had terrorized the Weasley twins, to her mother Andromeda being a former chaser for Slytherin, and Ginny winning the game through what felt like a loophole, Harry could not have seen any of that coming.

Topped off with the fact that he was living in a new home and might never have to see the Dursleys again and Harry felt dead tired. He could also safely say that this day had been one of the most memorable days in his entire life. And it had all been made possible because of the two men currently laid out on the sofas next to him.

His eyes growing wet from tears of happiness, Harry propped himself up against his couch and looked at the two men who had taken him into their home.

Remus Lupin. A werewolf, someone who had been cast out from much of 'proper' magical society only to rise up and become a professor at one of the most prestigious schools of magic in all of Europe.

Sirius Black. A wrongfully incarcerated and recently exonerated prison escapee who also happened to be heir to a rich family with a Dark and troubled history.

Two men with utterly different backgrounds and life circumstances. Who were completely different in looks, attitude, and bearing. But they were also two men who were clearly the closest of friends. Friend who were hell-bent on including Harry into every aspect of their lives.

His parents had trusted them. Harry trusted them. But perhaps most importantly, the oddball duo seemed to trust in Harry too. As such there was one final thing that Harry needed to do before he could let himself fully relax in his new home.

After a moment to collect himself he gathered their attention by clearing his throat.

"Remus. Sirius. Thank you for today. It was amazing, and incredible, and everything that I hoped it would be when you asked me to come live with you before the school year ended." He gave the two men the widest smile he could manage, but carried on speaking before they could say anything. "But before I officially move in, I, um, want to tell you something. It's a secret that I've only shared with three other people, and is something that I need you to promise to keep secret from anyone else you know, but one which I think is important to share with you before you agree to take me into your home."

Sirius gave Harry a long look while Remus pushed himself upright. Both men then shared a glance with each other before then nodding for Harry to proceed.

At their nods, Harry let out a breath that he did not realize he had been holding. "In that case, let me tell you about something which came about on the night that Wormtail escaped. When a special ability was awoke from within me. It changes depending on the person who receives it… and in my case it is called 'The Game of Death'."

**A/N:** My apologies for the delay in posting this story. To say that my personal life has been rough recently would be an understatement, but alas, that's just how life can be at times.

Meanwhile, a Quidditch game! I know that most fan fics tend to ignore them (often for good reason), but it _is_ a major part of the series. It also served as something of a warm up for me since I plan to write several Quidditch matches later on in this story. Please let me know what I did right and what I did wrong with it so that I can modify any future scenes which feature the game.

Looking forward, I do not see myself using Quidditch very often. It was fun in the first few books when it took the place of combat (a metaphor for sports in general, perhaps), but I feel that it really started to lose its lustre in Book 5 when there were far more dangerous things going on in Harry's life. After the Quidditch World Cup and reading as Harry out-flew a dragon on his broom during the Tri-Wizard tournament, going back to primary school level stuff felt rather blasé. Throw in a generous helping of Umbridge tarnishing the entire Quidditch season and Book 6 could not revive that dead horse no matter how hard Ms. Rowling tried.

As for the other bits, I hope that you enjoyed them too :) With Harry all settled in, the focus will be moving back to the main plot. Woohoo!

**10/10/2019 Edit**

After getting feedback and realizing that some of it made sense I went back and edited this chapter to better show the major rule change that I made to professional Quidditch rules and the Snitch in general. And in the interest of providing further clarification, for the purposes of this story a Snitch's canon 'flesh memory' ability is non-existent. There will be no hiding of secret messages in snitches lol.

Updated on 3/10/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	20. Chapter 20: Of Plans and Machinations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty: Of Plans and Machinations**

"Wormtail! Attend to me."

Wormtail grimaced within the safety of his threadbare bed. His master's shrill voice rang through the mansion, loud and clear in spite of the distance between their rooms. The decrepit wood floor creaked under his feet as he left his bed and shuffled to the Dark Lord's suite.

Once there, he made his way over to where a small form lay cradled within a tiny manger. A wrinkled, shrivelled claw the size of a child's hand reached out from within its confines. Wormtail gently grasped it with both hands and gave it a servile kiss, forcing the revulsion he felt at the act to the back of his mind.

The first and only time he had failed at doing so had been rather… unpleasant. An experience which Wormtail was loath to experience for a second time. "I am here, my master," he rasped, throat still raw and aching from the punishment he had received for his prior failure. "What is your will?"

"I wish to know the status of tomorrow's operation. Have you finished making the necessary preparations to rescue your fellow servant from his imprisonment?"

Wormtail nodded. "I have, master. The guard on Bartemius Crouch Jr. is lax; with his father handling preparations for both the World Quidditch Cup _and_ the Tri-Wizard tournament, Crouch Sr. has not been able to properly manage the wards on his home. Once I use your ring to neutralize them, I should be able to easily knock out the House Elf tasked with your servant's care."

The clawed hand stroked Wormtail's pale flesh in a pleased manner. "Excellent, my servant. That is excellent news indeed. So much that I actually find myself pleased with your progress thus far."

Wormtail made sure to properly bow his head in thanks as he replied. "Thank you, my master. Though I do not deserve such words of praise; all has been done according to your brilliant plan. Without it I would be useless."

An acerbic chuckle rose from the crib. "It is good that you know your place, my servant. Without my guidance you never would have made it this far. Albus or Alastor would have captured you the moment you stepped foot back on these isles." The chuckle slowed to a stop. "Yet know this, my servant. I will remember all that you have done in service to me while I was weak. When those who once proclaimed themselves loyal abandoned me and left their fellows to the cold mercy of our enemies. When I am returned to my strength in full I shall bestow upon you an honoured place among your fellow servants."

A feeling of euphoria rose within Wormtail. Lord Voldemort was usually quicker to belittle or punish others than he was to praise them. Yet when he did offer praise or rewards, the Dark Lord invariably kept his promises. To hear such glowing words come from the lips of his master's decrepit form validated all of Wormtail's hard work. But he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind as his master began to speak once more.

"On to other matters. It is time to administer the next dose of the elixir this body requires in order to maintain its form. Afterwards you must be sure to not disturb my rest until just before your mission commences. I will need every bit of strength this form possesses in order to break the enchantments laid down on your fellow servant by his deluded fool of a father."

"As you command, my Dark Lord, so shall it be." Wormtail immediately acknowledged his master's command and hurried to obey.

The rat-faced wizard scurried over to a nearby cabinet where the kept the elixir safe from the creatures which shared their current residence. Formed from a combination of advanced potions knowledge and the Dark Arts, brewing it had been an exhaustive task that had stretched Wormtail's meagre skills to their breaking point. He had failed more than once and did not possess enough materials to brew another batch anytime soon.

Wormtail drew out a small vial with shaking hands. The glassy container contained a viscous liquid which shone with a dark purple light and felt bitterly cold even to hold. Making sure to avoid spilling so much as a drop, Wormtail made his way back to the manger. He pulled out the stopper and gently placed the vial's opening to the distorted, fleshless lips of the tiny abomination that was his master's current form. He held back his shudder yet again as vile slurping sounds filled the room.

Necromancy never had been the most pleasant of Dark Arts and Wormtail had never claimed to possess an iron stomach.

* * *

Remus Lupin awoke early the next morning. After he had performed his morning ablutions and dressed himself, he made his way over to Harry's room and opened the door a crack to peer inside. Remus saw a shapeless lump within the bed. A mop of unruly black hair sticking out, with clothes scattered around the room. A soft hoot from the boy's snowy owl greeted the intrusion, the animal's golden eyes gleaming in the darkness as it studied Remus from its position above Harry's head.

Not wanting to wake the sleeping boy or to disturb his guardian animal any further – and what a surprise it had been to learn that the two shared a Familiar bond –, Remus softly closed the door and made his way down to the kitchen. Once there he placed a kettle onto the stove to boil some water while he made himself a light breakfast of scones and eggs over easy.

**Ding!**

**Party Member Sirius Black Has Awoken**

**Would You Like to Send a Message?**

**Yes or No**

Remus gave a start as the unfamiliar noise and text popped up in front of his eyes. His hand slipped, causing the brace of eggs which he had been cooking to fall onto the floor instead of sliding onto his readied plate.

Giving a slight 'tsk' of annoyance at the waste, the werewolf took out a fresh brace of eggs and cracked them into the pan to begin frying. He then pressed 'yes' on the notification and deftly composed a simple message to Sirius notifying him that breakfast would soon be ready. A muffled bang sounded out once Remus selected the 'send' option. It was soon followed by the faint sound of Sirius cursing with a tongue fit for a muggle sailor.

Remus smiled at that. It would seem that though the Game of Death was still rather surprising to both of them, the strange thing might have one or two unexpectedly fun uses for mischief.

Remus cooked the eggs and plated them with ease once they were finished. He plucked a fresh scone from the oven tray and sat down to tuck into the simple meal with a feeling of contentment. He was a man of simple pleasures and the simplicity of a nice morning meal in a quiet room was one of his greatest delights.

Only once the meal was half finished did Remus do as Harry had instructed the night before and call up his 'Game' stats. He grimaced as he read its description of him.

**Remus Lupin **

_**Remus is a man tortured by his own sense of guilt and remorse, often over things which are beyond his ability to control. As a young man, he constantly worried over whether he was worthy to have friends such as James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. As an adult, he often thinks about the deaths of James and Lily, trapped by thoughts of how he might have possibly prevented the tragedy which tore them away. (See Character Page for further information)**_

**Age: 33**

**Werewolf**

**Marauder**

**Level 266**

**Stats:**

**STR: 93**

**DEX: 96**

**CON: 84**

**INT: 668**

**WIS: 445**

**CHA: 181**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Survivor**

**Dedicated**

**Downtrodden**

**Former Prankster**

**Werewolf Form**

**Battle Hardened**

**Half-Blood**

**Penny Pincher**

**Expert Duellist**

**Transfiguration Adept**

**Charms Adept**

**Arithmancy Adept**

**Ancient Runes Adept**

**DADA Adept**

**Mental Arts Initiate**

**Renaissance Man**

**Educator**

Remus stared at the 'stats' which had been revealed by Harry's strange new ability. According to what the boy had said, Remus' level was the highest that he had seen; Sirius' own level was lower, much to the dark-haired man's consternation.

Meanwhile, most of Remus' attributes – which apparently governed how well a person performed on a physical and magical level – were also quite high, a fact which had made Harry quite happy. The only thing that had brought the boy down somewhat was when the Game had told him that due to the level difference between them, no experience gains – which apparently equated to gaining levels and thus greater strength– could occur until the party was disbanded.

Remus himself had merely given a shrug at the news. He had never been focused on personal achievements in the past. The prospect of gaining access to a magical ability with the power to rapidly increase his strength did not hold much of an appeal. If it had, then he would have followed the examples of many other werewolves and turned to the Dark Arts ages ago.

Content with his lot in life, Remus mindlessly munched on a bite of his egg as he considered the rest of of what Harry had said to them the night before.

After the boy had gotten over his disappointment of not being able to permanently stay in a party with Sirius and Remus at all times, Harry had launched into a detailed explanation regarding how levels worked. And that while they were not a direct correlation to a person's strength they were still useful in a general 'rule of thumb' manner. The higher a person's level the stronger the person generally was, but two people who were at the same level might also have radically different attributes if they possessed traits and titles that affected their various attributes.

It was a dizzying quagmire of complexity which only seemed to grow worse the longer Harry spoke. In all honesty, Remus had gone somewhat cross eyed during Harry's attempt to explain everything. It all made little sense to him and the more he heard about it the less Remus understood of it. So rather than attempt to understand the whole of it he had narrowed his focus and concentrated on one area.

This area concerned the traits which had been attached to him. They were, according to Harry, manifested for a number of reasons. Some – like the werewolf related traits – were created by actions that someone else had taken towards Remus. While others, like the Adept traits, were created due to Remus' own actions. A fact which had thrilled his inner professor as it allowed Remus to gauge his own progress on the path of learning. Properly evaluating ones own strength and abilities could be quite difficult, so to have a tool capable of doing so on a whim was rather incredible.

Swallowing his bite of egg, Remus used his finger to leaf through the various titles and traits that, according to the Game of Death, had been attached to him.

**Werewolf:**

_**A witch or wizard who bears this title has been cursed with Lycanthropy. A snarling, slavering monster will forever dwell within their body. And come every full moon, the affected person will lose all sense of reason and transform into the beast within. Gives an automatic increased sense of smell and sight when not transformed, a heightened desire to consume meat, +5 to all physical attributes, -1000 relationship points with anyone who bears the Pureblood Sympathizer or Creature Phobia traits, and -10000 relationship points with anyone who bears the Pureblood Supremacist or Creature Hater traits.**_

**Marauder:**

_**This title is different from the trait, which denotes a person who commits acts of violence on people and their property. The Marauders were a group of four schoolboys who played pranks together while they went on adventures. Gives an automatic +1 to all attributes, +5000 reputation points to anyone with the Prankster trait, and -1000 reputation points with people who bear rule abiding traits.**_

**Downtrodden:**

_**A sapient creature with this trait has had bad things happen to them throughout their life, and it has begun to sap away at their will. They are more likely to become withdrawn, and will often look at anything good that happens in their life with a sceptical eye. Gives an automatic -20 to both of the mental attributes and charisma. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**Former Prankster:**

_**You were once the type of person who enjoyed playing jokes on others. As you have aged, though, other responsibilities have taken centre stage for you. You still know how to have a good time, but are okay with not being in the centre of attention. Gives an automatic +40 to charm and +5000 reputation points with current or former pranksters. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**Werewolf Form:**

_**When a witch or wizard afflicted by Lycanthropy transforms, they turn into a creature that is a cross between a man and a wolf. They cannot use magic while trapped in this form, but gain a massive boost to their physical attributes. Gain an automatic +200 to all physical attributes, the trait Lesser Magic Immunity, and the ability to infect other humans with Lycanthropy as long as the transformation is active. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.**_

**Penny Pincher:**

_**This person has had to take a budget and stretch it. Some might call them tight-fisted, while others will bow down in awe of their skill. Gives an automatic +10 to both mental attributes, and -5 to the charisma attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**Renaissance Man:**

_**Any person with this trait has led an odd and varied lifestyle. They learn new skills more easily than others and have a balanced outlook on life. Gives an automatic +1 to all attributes, +10% learning speed for new skills, and +500 reputation points with anyone they meet. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**Expert Duellist:**

_**A witch or wizard with this trait has been in a great number of magical fights. They learned the theory, practised their skills and then put them to the test in the real world. Gives an automatic +20 to both mental attributes, +10 to the charisma attribute, +5 to the dexterity attribute, and temporary +30 to both mental attributes and charisma when fighting against a hated opponent. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**Educator:**

_**The bearer of this trait has devoted a large portion of their time, energy, and life to educating others. Gives an automatic +50% ability to help others learn spells or theory in the educator's chosen field of expertise, +1000 reputation points with any other who bears an Educator trait, and -1000 reputation points for anyone with the Ambitious trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**M****ental Arts Initiate:**

_**A wizard or witch with this trait is skilled in the use of both Occlumency and Legilimens. They know the subject on a functional level and are capable of using it to minor effect. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

**Transfiguration Adept:**

_**A Witch or Wizard bearing this trait has gone far on the path to mastering the art of Transfiguration. The trait gives a 50% increase in the speed of learning any spells or rituals in the Transfiguration School of Magic, +30 to both mental attributes, +20 to charisma, and +1000 reputation points with anyone who has mastered a school of magic. The attribute and reputation bonuses are only applied once; additional areas of Adept level only grant the increase in spell learning bonus. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

…

Remus chalked his abundance of traits up to the odd and varied lifestyle he had lived. Being forced to find ways to survive on the fringes of society had forced him to grow as a person and had imprinted lessons upon him that few wizards or witches of this era would ever know. Some of the traits, such as the 'renaissance man' trait, were wonderful to read. While others, such as the Werewolf trait, were disheartening. But Remus was a realist and took the bad with a good.

He also had a wonderful distraction to any dark thoughts close at hand.

"If you _ever_ do that to me again after a night of drinking, Moony, I swear by Merlin's beard that I'll wear your pelt as a fur coat." Sirius' red rimmed eyes stared at Remus in a bleary glare. "God dammit! Do you know how much I drank last night after Harry went to bed? My head already feels like it'll crack open at the slightest sound. Then you go and send me that stupid message thing which bursts into my brain with all the grace of a pounding tribal drum!"

Remus ignored his friend's whining – they would get nowhere if he listened to each and every one of Sirius' never ending list of complaints – and gestured towards the stovetop. "Breakfast is ready; you should eat it while its hot. And as you might remember there're a few hangover potions in the third cabinet on the left. I'd recommend taking two of them if you're feeling as bad as you look."

Sirius mumbled something under his breath that even Remus' sharp hearing could not pick up. But the dark-haired man soon stumbled his way towards the cabinet Remus had pointed out. After Sirius had retrieved three hangover potions from the cabinet and downed them, the man slowly made his way over to the stovetop. He plated his meal and sat down at the table with a loud thump, whereupon he too began to mindlessly eat his meal in relative silence.

Amused by his friend's inability to function – and knowing that he would probably pay for his minor prank on the other man sometime in the near future – Remus decided to leave Sirius alone until the potions had done their job. After all, there was no need to kick the man when he was already down for the count.

Ten minutes later saw the potions finally take effect. With a great shudder that ran through his body, Sirius gasped and shook his head. When he opened his eyes to look at Remus the dark-haired man's formerly bloodshot gaze was clear-eyed and energetic.

Remus took a sip of his tea and smiled. "So my friend, have you finally returned to the living? Or do you still feel like keeling over at the first sign of a faint breeze?"

"Just give it a hush already," Sirius said in a low growl. "You've been in that _exact_ same position more than once, so I don't want to hear anything."

Remus shrugged. "True. But I don't have much sympathy at the moment. As you might recall we _did_ agree to wake up early so that we could go over our plans for training Harry."

"Ah… yeah, we did say something like that, didn't we." Sirius mumbled. "Well then. I'm here and, thanks to the potions, I should be good to talk. Where did you want to start?"

"Let's start with the Acromantula in the room." Remus gave a sigh as he ran a hand through his short cut head of hair. "Knowing what we do about this… Game of Death… I think that we need to overhaul the plan entirely. Because while much of it is still valid, this special ability of his opens several new avenues of consideration."

Sirius gave a derisive snort. "That's a _helluva_ understatement there. By Morgana's saggy tits, Remus, why do you think I drank so heavily last night? Thinking about Harry being connected to an entity that calls itself Death is _terrifying_! Let alone with how much power it has given to him. Things like that don't happen without someone paying some sort of price and I'm man enough to tell you that I am _frightened_ to learn what that price might be."

Remus gave another sigh as he nodded his head. The two of them had stayed up talking well after Harry had gone to bed so as to discuss what each had thought of the boy's strange new ability. And though Remus had been fascinated by the Game on an intellectual level Sirius had been downright manic in his worry over it. The dark-haired wizard had heard rumours of entities giving such abilities to other mortals in his tormented childhood and from what little the man remembered of them such abilities never boded well for their possessors.

But other than composing a letter to Dumbledore asking for the man's thoughts on the matter, neither one had could think of any other action they could take. So they had tabled the discussion until they heard back from the Headmaster, with Remus going off to bed and Sirius deciding to drink.

Given that they had nothing to work with, and that the Game had thus far appeared to be benign in operation, Remus felt that they needed to focus on using it to help Harry. It was a tool for the boy to use. One that could allow him to make great strides in his future studies, but only if used properly.

Remus said as much to Sirius, who gave the idea a slow nod of grudging acceptance. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I guess that knowing what the boy is capable of, and having a detailed readout of how his abilities stack against our own, _does_ mean that we can increase the tempo of his training." Sirius took a sip of his tea while he mulled over his next words. "You know, despite my worry about its long term effects, with its help we might be able to get him up to the level of a Seventh year Hogwarts student by the time his fourth year begins."

"Um, I think that's going taking things a little too far, Sirius." Remus tried to throw some cold water on his friend's expectations. "Harry might have more power packed into his body than all but the strongest Seventh years, and with the Game aiding him he might be able to see exactly where and how he needs to improve, but the boy still doesn't have the theoretical or practical foundation in spells that even the most inept of Seventh years possesses."

"Exactly! But now that we know exactly what Harry can do down to the tiniest detail, we can change what we were going to teach him! Our previous plan called for a lot of grunt work; you know, peeling potatoes with your wand, keeping a room set to a cool temperature even with a roaring fire in it, that sort of thing. But with this Game of Death thing we can skip past all of that and go straight to the good stuff! As far as I'm concerned that's the best thing about this dumb cat's paw that's been forced on him." Sirius paused for a second. "Oh. And, uh, that neat ability to gather information on people around him, too."

Remus felt his frown deepen in disagreement with Sirius. As an educator he believed that a strong grasp of the fundamentals is what ensured a person's success in their future endeavours. Whether it was in magic or in everyday life, a person's grasp of the fundamentals was key to their success. The power of the Game of Death was not in dispute, but Remus was wary of using it to skip the normal growth process that was generally so vital to a person's education.

Yet this was Harry. The son of their old friends and a boy who had already suffered more encounters with Dark wizards and creatures than most trained Aurors. To think that those attacks would end just because he started to live with Remus and Sirius would be the height of folly. And with Harry's strange new ability they could work with him to maximize the boy's ability to learn spells and skills at optimum efficiency. Skills and spells that the boy would most likely need in order to save his life.

Remus leaned back in his chair as he thought it over. After a several minutes of weighing the pros and cons, he eventually raised his head and nodded. "Agreed, Sirius. Let's amend the plan, with the new goal being to get Harry to acceptable levels in duelling, theory, and magical history; after seeing that Binns has only gotten worse over the years I'm worried about the boy accidentally saying the wrong thing to a Goblin. We can probably include him in our usual physical conditioning as well rather than having him do his own considering how high his physical stats are according to the Game."

"Ha ha! Great!" Sirius crowed. "Do you think we can add in silent spell casting too? Doing so would give the boy a _major_ advantage in any fight since no one would expect a kid his age to be capable of it."

Remus shook his head. "No. At least, not at this time. Harry _might_ be able to pull it off, but I would rather we focus on getting his other skill areas and abilities boosted to higher levels before we bring that in. Training him in silent spellcasting would take far too much time. Time that would be better spent on learning other things first."

"Awww… but why not? It'd be so cool! And useful too!"

Remus did his best to hold back yet another sigh at his friend's headlong enthusiasm. "Because, Sirius, the reason why we usually wait to teach silent spell casting to upper years at Hogwarts is because it takes both greater energy _and_ focus to cast a spell silently. While Harry has demonstrated immense power, as well as the ability to focus in tense situations, the boy's overall ability to focus could still use some shoring up. For the children in his age group I would say that only Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass could have any hope of achieving it in the span of time we have remaining before school starts. Ms. Lovegood as well, but she is a year behind him and I don't think that they are acquainted with each other at this time."

"Damn. Well, there goes that idea," Sirius was visibly disappointed at having his idea quashed. "I guess that I'll just have to settle for the good ol' verbal jousts and go easy on him for the time being. Although I _wi__ll_ teach Harry to start whispering his spells instead of shouting them."

With the general outline agreed upon Remus and Sirius set down to working out the details. They figured that Andromeda would be willing to help Remus with the theory and history portions. Meanwhile, between Remus, Sirius and Dora pushing the kid in mock duels and practice battles, the boy's practical abilities would soon be miles ahead of his peers.

By the time Harry made his way down the two men had finished reworking their plan. Remus cooked the boy a light breakfast of his own and the three of them settled into a comfortable silence while he ate.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore warily eyed the man seated before his desk. Inscrutable in expression and neatly dressed in the latest Pureblood fashion as always, Lucius Malfoy was a man who embodied the traits which Salazar Slytherin found most desirable: ambition, talent, and an unwavering adherence to the ways of tradition.

When combined with a strong proclivity to the Darker side of magic, along with the many crimes he had committed both on his own and as a member of Tom's twisted group of followers, Albus would have loved little more than to see Lucius Malfoy brought to justice. But such was not to be; not on this day at least.

No. On this day it was Lucius who held the upper hand. The subtle sneer on the man's handsome features indicated that he knew it as well, just as the smug way he had entered the room and sat down without first announcing his presence had served to set the tone for this impromptu meeting.

"Ah, Headmaster, a pleasure to see you as always," the platinum haired man drawled as he placed his gentleman's walking cane across his lap. "I trust that your health is in good order?"

Albus inclined his head in reply. He had a good idea as to just why the man had sought him out, but one could never know for certain. For the time being Albus decided to observe and let things play out according to the other man's tune.

"I am blessed to have the energy of a man half my years, Lucius. Spirits willing, I might even live to see your own grand children walk these hallowed halls." Albus gave Lucius a genuine smile as he made his own inquiry. "Speaking of children, how is young Draco doing? Is he getting along well now that he is home with you and Narcissa?"

Lucius' left eye twitched at Albus' comment, causing a slight crack to appear in the man's artful mask of disdainful civility. Yet he managed to steel himself before it could collapse and the momentary lapse in control was erased as though it had never existed.

For all that the comment had been made with genuine curiosity as to Draco's well being, Albus had also made it in full knowledge of Lucius' impending divorce. Being Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot made it quite easy for certain bits of information to come his way and Albus had been aware of Narcissa's desire to dissolve her marriage to the man for the past year.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but your concern is unwarranted," Lucius stiffly replied. "Draco is a fine boy, as always, and he has a splendid relationship with his family. I anticipate that he will be amongst the top students of his year this coming semester."

"Ah. That is pleasant news indeed, Lucius. Thank you for informing me. It is always good to hear that a student is thriving as part of a loving family."

Lucius' eye twitched again at the veiled comment.

"Quite," the man stated perfunctorily. "In any case, I believe that it is time we got down to business, Headmaster. I have come here today at the personal request of Minister Fudge to discuss official Ministry business with you. It should not take long, but there are several rather important matters that do require… stressing."

Albus held in a sigh as he nodded his head. His assumption was proven correct. Cornelius Fudge had never been the sort to forgive even the smallest of slights, which meant that it was time for Albus to pay the price for crossing the Minister on the matter of Sirius Black's wrongful incarceration. And though Albus did not regret his actions in clearing the name of an innocent man, doing so had given the Ministry a black eye that showed no signs of washing away anytime soon. The latest morning edition of the Daily Prophet had run an entire expose on how thin the current Auror budget was and had raised questions regarding the Minister's commitment to the safety and security of his nation.

"As the Minister's Undersecretary made clear to you at the last meeting of Britain's representatives, you have been removed as the head of all matters concerning the upcoming Tri-Wizard tournament," Lucius drawled. "You will still be asked to help the Ministry coordinate all matters on the ground, but beyond that you will have no further input as to the tournament's composition or execution."

"And what of the matters previously decided upon prior to my removal?"

"Any matter previously sent to and agreed upon by the full international committee will remain intact. Any other matter – such as those still in discussion at the delegate level – will be undergoing a review by Bartemius Crouch and myself. Together we will either pass them or amend and reject any that we find to be lacking. After consulting with both the Minister _and_ the Minister's Undersecretary, of course."

Albus did his best to hide a grimace at the statement. While not the worst case scenario it was still quite bad. There had been multiple important provisions – on everything from the exact composition of the tasks to the age of those who were allowed to compete – that had yet to be agreed upon by the full international committee. Considering that he had been the one pushing for both an age limit and tasks which would lower the threshold of danger towards the young competitors, it was exceedingly likely that the tournament would go in a very different and far more deadly direction than Albus had wished.

"With that being said," Lucius continued. "I was also asked to inform you that all future communication you may have with the ministry officials involved in organizing and executing the tournament must go through me. The Minister has seen fit to nominate Bartemius and myself to fill the void you have left behind. And while Bartemius has been tasked with handling things concerning our international partners, _I_ have been asked to handle things on the domestic side."

A small smile graced Lucius' features as he said that last bit. Albus observed it with a heavy heart; the man had been angling for such a position for years. His sizeable donations to Cornelius and various departments had given him preferential treatment for years, but to man's annoyance it had never resulted in gaining a position of actual power.

Until now. And given Lucius' immense talents of deception and manipulation, Albus could see the beginnings of a dark cancer growing within the heart of the Ministry. One that could easily grow malignant should Albus' fears regarding Tom's impending return be proven true.

Lucius shifted his gloved hands around in his lap before he continued to speak. "The final item of business is that I will be maintaining my position on the Hogwarts Board of Governors during this period of time. As a result I will also be taking over the duty and responsibility of informing the board in regards to the tournament. Your valuable services are no longer needed in that area, although you are welcome to continue attending the official meetings in your role as Headmaster of the school."

The pale man gave a polite cough into his hand and met Albus' eyes with an unctuous smile. "I believe that covers it. Do you have any questions for me before I depart?"

Albus laced his fingers together as he considered the man's words. He leaned back in his chair to buy himself time before he answered.

The whole matter reeked of a political vendetta. Knowing of Albus' concerns for his students and their well being, Cornelius was no doubt hoping that Albus would try to raise a fuss over the matter. In which case the minister's usual response would be a character assassination followed by Albus' removal from any remaining positions of power.

If that still did not net Cornelius his desired result, then the attacks and persecution would branch out to those closest to Albus. Most likely beginning with his staunchest supporters such as the Weasley's and young Harry, or even his long-time associates such as Alastor and Minerva. It was the sort of crude and petty tactic that the man had used to great success throughout his political career.

Albus was more than confident that he could handle the Minister should any of this come to pass. Cornelius was a passable bureaucrat at best and a malicious front man at worst. The man's greatest talents lay in obfuscation and delay, but when confronted with a force that he could not beat into submission the man would often fold like a piece of wet cardboard. It was one of the greatest reasons why he had been in power for a decade without accomplishing even a single signature piece of legislation.

Yet given Lucius's involvement, coupled with the signs of Tom's revival that Albus had been reading in the ethereal tides, Albus could not risk such a confrontation at this time. Tom had a special knack for taking advantage of existing conflicts to devastating effect. Underestimating his ability to manipulate events from the shadows was the last thing Albus would do, but dealing with it carried an unfortunate problem.

Any opponent who hid themselves in darkness possessed the initiative. They could attack as they pleased, when they pleased, while those who stood in the light would be forced to respond and react. Such a posture inevitably resulted in casualties, and right now those who stood in the light included those who would be most vulnerable.

The best way to deal with an opponent who hid in the shadows was to drag them into the light. Doing so would change the flow of battle and give the opposing side a chance to seize the initiative. And as his struggles against Grindenwald had taught Albus years ago, holding the initiative was key to winning any struggle.

But dare he do so? Could Albus once again gamble with the lives of others in the hopes that he and his allies might be fast enough to stop Tom and his forces before they could enact their plans? Or should he play it safe by fighting Cornelius and Lucius on this naked power play? Albus coldly calculated the effects of various actions he could take and felt a twinge of pain as he determined the results.

If he were to fight Cornelius on this, then the battle between the two of them would only escalate. Cornelius would bend the Ministry's apparatus towards punishing Albus and his supporters, while Albus himself would be forced into launching a bitter struggle to remove the Minister from his position. Regardless of how quickly Albus managed it, removing Fudge through force would damage the reputation of the people and institutions Albus most needed in order to fight a renewed Tom.

All while Tom hid in the shadows and gained in strength.

Such a scenario could not be allowed to happen. So as much as it pained him there was only one choice Albus could make in order to protect as many innocents as he possibly could. Tom's greatest flaw had always been his pride and Albus would play it like a fiddle by feigning weakness. Only when the man became overconfident could Albus drag him into the light of day and regain the initiative in their continuing struggle.

His decision made, Albus lifted his eyes from the contours of his desk to match gazes with Lucius. "I thank you for coming today. I understand all that you have mentioned to me and I do not have any questions for you at this time. I would only ask that you hold the continued safety of my students as the highest measure of success for this event and that you work hard to ensure there are no… _unexpected_ surprises from any outside influences."

"But of course, Headmaster," Lucius said with a mild sneer on his pale face. "My own son numbers amongst our august student body. Any actions that I might take would always keep in mind the safety of Draco and his peers."

_A __safety which would apply__ only __to__ those who__m__ you _perceive_ to be your son's peers_. Albus kept that thought to himself. Such a grouping would not include anyone of muggle descent nor those related to any other group which might resist his former master's agenda. Lucius' thoughts on the matter were as plain to see as daylight to the ancient wizard. As was the fact that the man would patently deny such allegations if confronted.

Albus rose to his feet to bid his unwelcome visitor goodbye. "Thank you for visiting, Lucius. I look forward to working with you on matters regarding the Tri-Wizard tournament."

Lucius rose to his feet as well, the man's unctuous smile back in full force. "I am sure that the pleasure will be mine, Headmaster. Good day."

The man turned to leave the office, no doubt intending to use the private Floo reserved for the use of Hogwarts staff and the Board of Governors. As he neared the door, though, Albus had one final parting comment for the man. A comment which might have been beneath his person, but one which would let Lucius know that Albus was not yet the senile old man many seemed to think he had become.

"Oh, and Lucius, please do give my best to Narcissa when you see her. I find myself looking forward to meeting her at next week's hearing regarding the splitting of your joint assets."

The comment drew blood the moment the words finished leaving Albus' mouth. Lucius' mask did not crack; it broke. The man's pale face became drawn with fury while his gloved hands tightened on the wand Albus knew to be hidden within his cane. The hate-filled creature which lay underneath Lucius' aristocratic face was laid bare for Albus to see.

The man's furious eyes met his own and in that brief moment of distraction Albus was able to slip through the other man's powerful mental shields. He darted to and fro as he tried to search for any relevant information that could stop Tom's return to power. But all the mental probe revealed was the man's raging desire to hurt his soon to be ex wife and any who might shield her from his wrath.

Before Albus was able to breach any further Lucius' shields had slammed back into place. The probe was cut off with the finality of a Dementor's Kiss.

"Thank you for that _kind_ reminder, Chief Warlock. But I would caution you to beware." Lucius' lips pulled up in a thin lipped sneer as his refined voice turned venomous. "For the waters in which you will be sailing that day are deep and cloudy, and one never knows when they might chance upon a shoal."

Albus' warning received and his own delivered in reply, Lucius turned away and left.

**A/N:**I have always been curious as to how exactly Voldemort took on his childlike form in Book 4. This chapter shows my own theory regarding what type of dark magics he used to do it.

Meanwhile, something that always bothered me when I read fics where Sirius was freed was how there are often very few negative ramifications resulting from it. In real life if a democratic government in a free society were to imprison a member of a rich and powerful family for over ten years, without so much as a trial, then all hell would break loose when it came to light. Depending on the prisoner's political allegiances and the power of those who supported them, the ultimate reaction to it could vary from mere public outcry to the outright toppling of a government.

Said governments and the people in charge of them often have a tendency to get angry with – and then punish – those who cause everything to go down. It's one of the reasons why it's so dangerous to be an activist in real life. Because often times even in success an activist will find themselves relegated to the rubbish bin (or even killed) as punishment for their actions.

Food for thought.

Updated on 3/11/2020

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	21. Chapter 21: On Metamorphs and Veela

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-One: On Metamorphs and Veela**

"Alright kiddo, it's time to rise! Let's get a start on our morning exercise!"

Harry raised his head from the pillow in confusion. His sleep-addled brain took precious seconds to turn over. When it finally did manage to start, Harry remembered that he was supposed to be on his way to morning training with Remus and Sirius.

He fumbled for the glasses set next to his bed so that he could look at the old-fashioned mechanical clock he had recently placed on a stand next to his bed. When he could finally see somewhat clearly and noticed the time it was all Harry could do to bite back a curse. The infernal device read 5 o'clock. In the _morning_. And from what little his still slow brain could remember, Harry had gone to bed at midnight the night before.

Five hours or less was not enough rest. Harry flopped his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes to resume his sleep.

"Hm. Looks like the simple way isn't going to work this morning. Well, that works for me. Just remember you were the one who told me to do this to you if you didn't wake up on time. _Aguamenti_!"

A thick stream of ice-cold water splashed on Harry's face. The shock of the chill liquid hitting his skin woke him up in a heartbeat. He scrambled out of his suddenly sodden sheets with every ounce of energy he could frantically muster.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" Harry shouted as he felt the water continue to hit his sodden sleepwear. "Stop casting the blasted spell already!"

A quiet snicker reached Harry's ears from the darkness that filled his room. The stream of water cut off shortly afterwards.

Harry shot a bleary eyed glare at where he figured Sirius was standing. He had only suggested such a course of action to Sirius and Remus as a joke; never had Harry dared think that they would actually go through with it. Then the icy wet feeling of covering his skin vanished as the older man cast drying and warming charms on Harry's body.

"Alright, play time's over kid. Let's get down to business." Harry felt more than saw the magical lights turn on around them. A slight tingle went through his body as the feeling of active magic began to pervade the air. "Remus is already outside. Change into your workout clothes and meet us by the front door for the usual morning jog."

Harry nodded and moved to the chest of drawers placed across from his bed. He rummaged through it and grabbed the first pair of long slacks and t-shirt that came to hand. The drawer was fairly bursting with clothes from a recent trip made to Diagon Alley and Westfield London, which made doing a proper sorting of it at the crack of dawn an activity best avoided.

Harry stripped himself of his nightwear and dressed himself in a flurry of limbs and cloth. When he was certain that he had not done something stupid like putting his pants on top of his slacks, Harry followed Sirius down the stairs and out the door. Harry also quietly grumbled inside his head at how unfair it was that neither Sirius nor Remus could be in his Game party for any length of time. It would have been so much easier if they could have just done something like message him awake instead of having to use water spells.

Alas, such was not to be. Nor was it the only recent unfortunate incident involving the two men that had arisen from their introduction to the Game. Several unfortunate revelations that Harry had been forced to disclose concerning the Game and its ability to discern attraction had led the two men into giving Harry the sex talk that Hermione had told him to seek out. And boy was he not prepared for what had been told to him.

Suffice to say that Harry had learned far more about sex in one hour that night and over another two hours the next day than he had in all of his years before. Remus had been rather matter of fact and clinical when discussing things, while Sirius had been rather… rather _liberal _when it came to discussing sex. And into some things that Harry found both fascinating and disturbing to hear about at the same time.

Just thinking about the talk caused Harry's cheeks to flush yet again, and he was rather thankful for the cool morning air as he stepped out from the Cottage. A blast of chilly highland air, so familiar to Harry from his time spent at Hogwarts, washed over his skin like a soft tide. After a brief spot of silent stretching under Remus' watchful eye the three of them took off down the old dirt pathway at a brisk jog. Upon falling into a rhythm after the first ten minutes, Harry let his mind drift while his body went on autopilot. And as they often did in the morning hours, his mind fell to thinking about how much his life had changed since he had started living with Remus and Sirius.

Today made it two weeks since Harry had arrived at the Cottage. Two weeks since he had left the Dursleys and two weeks since the amazing party everyone had thrown to welcome him to the Cottage. Since that day Harry's life had been totally different.

The best place to start was probably when it came to living together. The welcoming party they had thrown for him had set the tone and learning about the Game of Death had not even phased the two men for very long. Seeing Sirius starting cursing up a storm because Remus had a higher level than he did had caused harry to laugh so hard he had fallen off of his sofa.

Ever since that first day Remus and Sirius made an effort to include Harry in nearly everything they did at the Cottage. Whether it was figuring out how next to modify their home, shopping for groceries, or just relaxing and reading after a meal, the three of them were almost always with one another. It might have seemed weird to some, but for Harry it was fast becoming his new normal.

Besides, the two men were a constant source of entertainment. Seeing them bicker with one another like children over the slightest things made Harry laugh so hard that tears often came to his eyes. Sometimes he felt like he was the only adult in the house, like the day when he had entered the kitchen to find the two men duelling over who got the final piece of toast; or that time where Sirius had dyed Remus' hair lime green in revenge over some comment or other; or when Remus had hog tied a transformed Sirius and shoved him into a conjured kennel for daring to mess with the filing system Remus used for his class notes.

Between the two of them Harry never knew what to expect and it felt amazing!

Sirius, especially, was a ball of constant energy. When they had walked past the pond on Harry's third day at the Cottage, the man had told Harry that his James had once possessed a dreadful fear of the water. One that had persisted until Lily had taken him down to the Hogwarts lake and taught him how to swim during the final month of their seventh year. Supposedly the Giant squid had even taken a liking to Harry's father on that day and allowed him to use its tentacles like a slide, but the amused glint in his godfather's eyes warned Harry that that part of the story was probably false.

Another titbit told to Harry was that his mother had been famous for playing the peacemaker during her years at Hogwarts. It was just one of the reasons why it had taken his mother and father so long to get together as she had constantly been scolding the Marauders for their various pranks and getting furious over their attempts to tweak everyone's noses. And while their many fights with Severus Snape had long ago cemented a mutual antagonism between the greasy-haired git and all of the Marauders except for Remus, more often than not it had been Lily's wand which had ended their disputes.

It was the first time in his life that anyone had really spoken of his parents and who they were as people. Even Hagrid, bless his kind soul, had never shared these sorts of stories with Harry. And while there were one or two stories mixed in which painted his father and even his mother in a less than ideal light, Harry was okay with that. Because learning about their flaws made him feel even closer to them; as though they were more real and human, rather than the perfect beings everyone else often made them out to be.

But everything came with a price. And for Harry that price was learning how to wake up early in the morning to start his new routine. Which basically consisted of an hour long jog followed by several cardio and strength building exercises Sirius taught him.

After breakfast and a short digestive recess Sirius and Remus would usually have Harry go through a set schedule. First was an hour of study, which was spent on finishing his summer homework and reading ahead in his chosen courses. After which was an hour spent outside with Sirius hiking or playing games like a magical version of hide and seek, followed by another two hours outside working on practical skills such as duelling and battle tactics. Then came lunch and an hour of free time that Harry usually spent trying out new moves on his Firebolt or reading some of the fascinating books Remus and Sirius had placed in his room.

Reading some of them had caused rather odd things to occur. It appeared that once Harry finished reading a book detailing how to use a new school of magic, or on how to use a school of magic in new ways, the Game of Death would send him a notification.

The first time Harry had noticed this was when he had been reading a book on the 'mental arts.' A giant ding had immediately rung out, causing Harry to jump and bump his knees on his reading desk.

**Ding!**

**Congratulations!**

**You Have Finished Reading an Introductory Guide to the Mental Arts**

**You Now Have Access to Two Brand New Abilities**

**Occlumency and Legilimency**

**Use Spells or Techniques From Their Respective Areas to Gain Greater Proficiency**

Harry had stared at the message for a good long while in dumbfounded amazement. According to the book he had just finished reading, gaining any sort of proficiency in either one was incredibly difficult. But if what the Game was saying was correct, then Harry could actually use them right after reading them!

The thought of being able to master any spell just by reading about how to use it nearly made Harry jump for joy. He had immediately run to find whomever was closest so he could test it out, eventually finding both men sitting in the living room as they enjoyed a steaming pot of fresh brewed tea.

When they were finally able to communicate, as Harry kept stumbling over his words in his excitement, Remus and Sirius had both given Harry a dubious glance. But after a few minutes of pleading with them Sirius had volunteered to serve as tester and test subject for Harry's new skills.

What happened next had been rather illuminating. While it turned out that Harry _could_ use both Occlumency and Legilimency he was a far cry from being any good at either one. It had taken Sirius all of half a second to pierce through Harry's flimsy mental defence. And when Harry had tried to use Legilimens on Sirius the man had claimed to only feel a soft poking against his own defences.

The entire episode had served to illustrate the general guidelines of how the Game aided Harry in learning. In a nutshell, the Game helped Harry in three ways. It told Harry when he was on the right track by giving him notifications of success; it kept track of things like how well Harry could use a spell and how skilled he was at a particular school of magic like Transfiguration or Potions by use of a 'mastery meter' as Harry called it which went from one to one hundred; and thirdly, when Harry used certain special items like his wand or the desk in his room, he seemed to learn faster than if he were to use something else like Remus' wand or the kitchen table. Everything else was up to good old fashioned hard work.

Thinking of that brought Harry's mind to his afternoon schedule. The two men, with some assistance from Andromeda, covered the important subjects that every pureblood or half-blood Harry had ever met in Magical Britain seemed to take for granted. Topics like how the Ministry of Magic actually functioned, the purpose of a quasi legislative and judicial governing body of Magical Britain called the Wizengamot that Harry had never heard of, and what things were like in the rest of Magical Europe and the world.

For instance, Harry had learned that Britain was actually not the most prejudiced nation in Europe. That notable distinction apparently fell to Magical Austro-Hungary, which had never split apart following the Muggle nation's collapse after World War I. In fact, the whole of Magical Europe looked quite different on a map than the muggle version. The act of trying to reconcile the many differences between the magical and muggle nations had quickly given Harry a pounding headache and he had resolved to rely on Hermione's assistance should he ever have any questions regarding it in the future.

After that portion of the day concluded the rest of the afternoon was generally a mix of things. Sometimes they would leave the Cottage to go shopping, which was how Harry had ended up with so many clothes in his drawers. At other times the two men would join Harry on the Quidditch pitch and fly around on their brooms. Then as the day wore on they would have supper, after which Harry was expected to spend another hour on a study area of his choice before going to bed.

Some nights, though, that was not necessarily the case. Harry had always been a bit of a night owl and living in a magical home where he had free reign was too great a temptation for him to resist. There were nights where Harry would walk along the grounds for hours with only Hedwig for company, testing the new spells he had learned while his snowy white owl using him as a convenient landing post for her hunts. On those nights Harry often forgot to go to bed on time and he invariably had trouble waking up the following morning.

Neither Remus nor Sirius seemed to take any pity on Harry whenever that happened. In fact, both men seemed to take a perverse pleasure in messing with him throughout the day. While Harry tried his best to avoid their traps and tricks the two men seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to pranking and a gift for striking whenever Harry least expected it.

"Think quick, kiddo!" Sirius suddenly yelled.

"Huh?" Harry queried in confusion. They were nearly back to the Cottage and he had been lost in thought. "What d-"

That was all Harry could get out before a pink blur smashed into the centre of his chest and launched him backwards. He rolled his body with the momentum, his Quidditch instincts overriding his conscious mind in a bid to reduce the spell's impact.

By the time Harry felt himself come to a stop along the dirt path most of his body felt battered and bruised. He groggily picked himself up and aimed a glare at the person who had just tagged him. But his glare had no apparent effect on its intended target.

An amethyst haired Dora merely gave him a cheerful wave in reply as she sauntered over. "Wotcher, Harry! And hiya Sirius, Remus. Mind if I join you guys for a spot of fun? Moody gave me the day off for once and I thought that I'd come over to hang out."

Remus nodded his head in reply. Beads of sweat trickled down the man's neck and he conjured a towel to wipe it away as he replied. "Not at all, Miss Dora. Having you around would be a breath of fresh air in the house. Will your mother be joining in as well? She missed her usual tea session yesterday."

Dora shrugged in reply. "Maybe? I don't know. Before I left to come here she said that she wanted to come along, but that there was this big meeting of the Daily Prophet's Board of Directors that she had to attend around noontime. She didn't seem sure how long it would run."

"In that case I'll prepare some extra refreshments and place them under a freshening charm should she arrive."

Dora flashed the werewolf a brilliant smile. "Thanks Remus, you're the best! I'm glad that little Harrykins here has a dependable man like you around to serve as a good role model."

She then shot a look at Sirius and stuck her tongue out in a display of childish amusement. Predictably, Sirius chose to respond in kind.

"You know, Dora, I'm starting to think that you don't like me at all," Sirius said rather grumpily. His own shaggy mane of hair was slick from the sweat pouring down his neck, and his voice sounded slightly winded unlike that of Remus. "I'm the one in this house who's both Harry's godfather and an all-around handsome, debonair wizard. Not Remus."

"Ha! You might be the kid's godfather, cousin, but I don't see the debonair bit at all. Besides, don't be such a worry-wart," Dora said with a laugh. "It's only been a little over a month since we first met. And given that I haven't tried to break your fingers yet or toss you off the roof, I think that we're getting along swimmingly."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Uh huh. In that case, I think that it's time I take things up a notch when it comes to letting you know who's the top dog around here."

"Psh! You're welcome to try any day. But more importantly, shouldn't someone clue Harry in as to what I did to him? I think that he looks rather fetching myself, but I'd like to hear your input."

Harry gave a start at her words. Feeling a sudden sense of alarm steal over him, Harry swiftly patted himself down. He did not find anything immediately out of place, but that only served to increase the feeling of mounting dread.

"Hm, you're right, Dora. That is _quite_ the look on him." Sirius' tone contained barely hidden mirth as he looked at Harry. "Definitely more pretty than handsome, although I do have to admit that the eyes are nicely done. They remind me of Lily's back when she and James went out clubbing with me on the Muggle scene. Let me do something about that hair though, it's a bit of a mess from all that rolling around in the dirt."

Sirius took out his wand and shot another pink spell at Harry. Unlike Dora's, this one did not launch him across the ground. To Harry's growing worry it felt like the spell did nothing at all. Which was highly unlikely given that Dora's reaction to it was to throw her head back and laugh so hard that tears began to flow.

Remus gave the two troublemakers an exasperated look. Conjuring a gleaming mirror, he handed it to Harry and made his way into the Cottage. "I'm off to make breakfast. In the meantime I'd recommend that you look at your face, Harry."

Harry peered into the mirror. The face of a girl stared back at him from within. A very _cute_ girl. One whose adorable little nose, rosy red lips, and inquisitive face were surrounded by artfully messy locks of Harry's signature black hair. Little dabs of blush were present on the cheeks and some kind of dark make-up had been put under her eyes that made the emerald green orbs stand out like the most expensive of precious stones. Those gorgeous eyes widened as a mixture of horror and anger filled Harry's entire body.

With slow and careful movements belying his true feelings, Harry gently placed the mirror onto the ground and began walking towards the chortling duo of Dora and Sirius. His lips curved into what might seem to be an enchanting or flirtatious smile to an unobservant watcher, but was in truth the bloody grin of an executioner. "I hope that both of you have enjoyed this little prank of yours very much. As payment for your amusement, it is time for the two of you to _die_. I promise that it will be neither swift nor painless and that I will take _great_ amusement from causing it."

With his wand still being stowed in his room Harry flung himself bodily at both of the laughing adults. The two devils in human form turned tail and ran from him, their laughter ringing across the Scottish hills as Harry continued to chase them.

* * *

Several hours later saw the group of four relaxing around the dining table. Sirius was sporting a rather large shiner over one of his eyes, courtesy of running face first into a tree when Harry had been chasing him. Both Remus and Dora had refused to heal it on the premise that he deserved it. Harry, meanwhile, had taken a hot shower to wipe off the magically applied make-up and was once again looking like his usual male self.

As for Dora and Remus, the two of them looked the same as normal. Dora's amethyst hair might have added a few inches to it since last Harry had seen, but that was fairly standard. Hair lengthening spells were rather common, with Harry having been aware of them since his second year at Hogwarts. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had been known to sport three or more radically different hairstyles on any given day, so Dora adding one or two inches was rather tame by comparison.

The young woman leaned over and gently rubbed one of Harry's shoulders. "Aw, don't take it so hard, Harry. I was just kidding around this morning."

Harry rolled his eyes in response and did not respond. He was still irked at her.

"Seriously, it really was only a joke. But if I took it too far, too fast, then I'm sorry about it. I even think that I know how I can make it up to you too." Dora's mischievous dark eyes danced as she looked at him. "Just sit back and enjoy the show."

Before Harry could do more than wonder at what she meant, Dora's eyes changed. Orbs as blue as the summer sky stared back at him from a face that looked about six years younger. Long blonde hair fell across her shoulders and breasts the size of melons pushed Dora's tight shirt taught against her chest. A chest which was in full view of his eyes.

Harry nearly choked on his piece of toast. He slapped his chest to try and clear his air pipe while he stared at Dora in utter wonder. "Wha-how-magic?"

The girl in front of him – who looked _nothing_ like the Dora he knew – gave a tinkling laugh that Harry never would have associated with her in a million years. "Of course it's magic! We're wizards and witches, Harry, not muggle scientists. But if you thought that was impressive, then check this out."

Dora's face began to change for a second time. Her cheeks became pudgy, her nose drew inwards, and her hair became thin and short. At the same time, what looked to be stubble grew from her chin while her frame thickened considerably. Gone was the teenage Norse beauty from moments ago. Replacing her was what looked to be a chubby middle-aged man with beady black eyes and an overall unwholesome appearance.

This time Harry felt his jaw drop in utter amazement. "Holy smokes! That's totally wicked!" His hands twitched and Harry only just caught himself from reaching over to touch Dora's face to see if it was actually real. "Are you really changing your body? Like an Animagus does with advanced Transfiguration? Or is it some sort of illusion like I hear the upper years learn in Charms?"

Dora did not answer his questions. Instead, she began to change her face and body yet again into a near perfect copy of her mother. The Andromeda look-alike that sat before Harry shrugged her shoulders and leaned back into her chair.

"Nah, it's not any of that," Dora replied in a close approximation of her mother's voice. The flesh on her shoulders tucked in a little as she continued to try to look more like her mother. "Although I guess Transfiguration would be the closest school of magic if you had to pick one. It's an ability that I was born with; I'm what people call a Metamorphagus, someone who can transform their body without the use of a wand or potions. It's pretty rare even in the world of magic."

"Although it seems to run in the Black bloodline," Sirius chimed in from the side. "Dora's the third person from the family that I've seen with the gift in my lifetime."

Andromeda's face gave a pout at Sirius' words. "Yeah, but I'm the onlyone currently active in all of Britain at this point. So what I said was _perfectly_ correct, thank you very much."

Sirius chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, cousin. You are both wonderfully special and unique. We all love and adore you for it."

"Damn straight you do!"

Still filled with curiosity at this strange new phenomenon, Harry tried keep to the topic at hand before the two of them could derail the conversation. "But _how_ exactly do you do it? And what happens to your body when you change?"

A pensive look came across Dora's face as she considered Harry's words. "Hm. To tell you the truth, I'm really not quite sure how to answer either of those questions. But in regards to _how_ I change I guess that it's mostly a matter of concentration with a small helping of magic energy. Though there are limitations as to how much I can change my body."

"Like what?" Harry asked. "Because you seemed to change into three different people just now, including a man."

"Ah, well, that's what it may have _looked_ like on the surface, but that's not what _actually_ happened." Dora gestured to her body as she spoke. "When I transformed myself to look like a man all I did was change my flesh and muscles, with a little bit of hair thrown in to complete the effect. And while I may have made my breasts smaller in that form to give the _illusion_ of being a man, I can assure you that I was still all woman down below."

Harry blinked in confusion at her last sentence. All woman down below? What did that mean?

Either not seeing Harry's befuddlement at her words or choosing to ignore it, Dora continued to speak. "But in any case the bottom line is that the ability is limited. I can't do things like change my bones or my inner organs, make myself taller, or give myself super strength. Doing big changes like assuming a completely different face or body type can be really draining on my magic. Smaller changes though, like the colour of my hair, are much easier to maintain, to the point that I can keep it changed even if I fall asleep. It's really just one big trick that I play on people."

"Ahhh..." Harry said as a bit of comprehension entered his brain. "I think that I get it. And now that you mention it, I can see some of the differences between your mum and your transformed self."

From what Harry could tell Dora had certainly gotten the face right. It was an absolute dead ringer for her mother, but the rest of the transformation was rather spotty. With much of the differences coming down to their different body types.

Like he had first noticed at the party, Andromeda Tonks was the epitome of a classic beauty. Tall for a woman, with slim shoulders and a willowy waist, Andromeda had the delicate bone structure of an aristocrat and the mannerisms to match. If Harry were to pick the idealized picture of a beautiful noble born woman, then she would be it.

Nymphadora Tonks, meanwhile, was an entirely different kind of beauty. As tall as her mother and with similar facial features, Dora possessed far broader shoulders. Her overall appearance was closer to that of a trained athlete's than that of a delicate flower, which gave Dora a more robust look and a completely different sort of beauty than that of her mother. She was like a tennis or basketball star who possessed both power and beauty.

Still, thinking about what Dora could do was a bit of a mind bender for Harry. James Bond would have killed to have an ability like that and Dora could do it without relying on something like Polyjuice potion. Even Harry was not above pining in envy over it. Being a Metamorphagus would have come in handy so many times during his adventures. Whether it was sneaking into the Slytherin dorms during his second year or tricking Minister Fudge into freeing Buckwing last year, most of his many adventures would have been far easier if Harry had also been born a metamorphagus.

A short hand clap brought Harry out of his thoughts. "Okay. You've had your moment of glory, Dora. Now, what about the downsides which come as part and parcel of your cute little ability, hm?" Sirius said in a chipper tone of voice. "Tell him about those."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dora muttered. The young woman shifted her eyes away to look at the table as she spoke. "There _are_ no downsides to being a metamorphagus."

"Uh huh. Suuuuure there aren't. But hey, if you really don't want to tell Harry, then I understand. I'll respect your wishes and wait to tell him until after you leave."

Dora's eyes – still those of her mother – snapped up from the table to glare at Sirius' smiling face. "Are you seriously threatening me? 'Cause that would be a giant mistake on your part."

Sirius grinned. "I mean, I get it. You're too scared to do it yourself. And that's okay. So I'll just be the nice older adult and help my adorable younger cousin out with this difficult issue. That's what family is for, right?"

"Oh no you don't!" Dora said with a huff. Having reverted back to her normal features the glare she shot Sirius was all her own. "I wouldn't trust you to get anything right."

"Then it seems like you should tell the kid now, eh, Dora?"

The young woman gave Sirius a baleful eye as she stared at his smiling face. A short facial tic seemed to develop in her right cheek when the dark-haired man flashed a victory sign at her. Her loss to Sirius apparently complete, Dora took a deep breath and turned to face Harry. Then she began to speak in a hesitant, halting tone of voice.

"There… well, there are generally two downsides to being a metamorphagus. The first being that whenever we change our body shape and hold the changed form for a long time, the muscles and skin that we change gets very sore once we revert to our natural form. And if we hold it for too long the pain will supposedly get so intense that we won't be able to use the ability at all for several days afterwards." Dora squirmed a little in her seat. "I, uh, haven't done that myself yet, though, so I can't speak from personal experience on it."

"Uh huh. And the second one?" Sirius said in a sing-song tone of voice. His expression lit up with glee as he continued to needle Dora. "You know, the silly one?"

"I was getting to it!" Dora snapped at him. After a few more seconds of glaring at Sirius' cheerful expression she turned back to look at the table. The next few words she said were mumbled so softly that Harry could not hear them.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Harry asked gently. Whatever this second issue was, it seemed to be a sensitive topic for her. He really did want to know, but he did not want her to feel as though he were being pushy about it like Sirius.

"-z."

"Sorry, but I still couldn't hear you."

"-utz."

"I'm sorry, Dora, but could you please try it again? I really can't hear you."

"I SAID THAT IT MAKES ME A KLUTZ!" Dora yelled. The young woman's hair turned flaming red as she threw her hands up into the air in frustration. "It's _really_ annoying, my mum gets on my case over it _all_ the time and people _always_ make fun of me over it. At Hogwarts, at the Ministry, even in public or at a pub. So if I hear one of you – _any_ of you – ever make a wisecrack over it where I can hear you, then so help me… I'll… I'll…"

Dora's words trailed off in obvious frustration as she glared at everyone seated around the table. She had lifted a hand and was pointing a shaking finger at the three males, her eyes glaring at each of them in turn and daring them to ignore her words.

Remus calmly took a sip of his tea and shook his head. "You needn't worry about something like that coming from Harry or myself, Dora. We understand how it feels to be pushed out by others for reasons that are beyond your control and are mature enough to resist stooping to such levels."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah! If anything, I think that it makes you even cooler. Like you're a comic book hero whose superpower is to change form and whose weakness is that you stub your toes every now and then. I'd take that trade any day of the week!"

Dora looked between the two of them, her expression that of wary acceptance. "Do you mean it? You really won't make fun of me over it?"

Harry and Remus nodded in unison. Dora gave them both a hard look, seeming as though she were trying to ascertain the veracity of their words. Harry kept up his encouraging smile under the stare, knowing what it was like when someone opened themselves up only to receive ridicule in return. It was a horrible feeling that Harry never wanted to make someone else experience if he could help it.

After several seconds of silent staring Dora leaned back in her chair. The woman's entire body relaxed and she gave them a smile that nearly took Harry's breath away. It was so open and vulnerable, and so different from her usual wisecracking grin, that Harry was dazzled by the difference. But before he could comment on it Harry suddenly felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck. A sensation which usually meant that danger was incoming.

As if they too felt the tingling sensation as well, Dora and Remus joined Harry in turning their eyes upon Sirius. Who responded to their looks by placing his cup of tea onto its saucer as he gave the group a devilish grin.

"Oho. Is that so?" Sirius said with an aristocratic drawl. The dark-haired man slowly drew his wand from his pocket and tapped it gently against the surface of the table. Dora's eyes narrowed at the action and Harry suddenly felt like he should begin stepping away from the table.

"You can stake every last quid you own on it, cousin," Dora growled out. The Auror in training began to reach for her own wand as she spoke. "Or in our case, every last Galleon. But do you really want to try your luck by making that particular gamble? _Hm?_"

Sirius threw his head back and laughed. "Ha! I am the great and powerful Sirius Black! Debonair wizard and brilliant duellist. I fear nothing in this world, not even the wrath of an angry woman."

Remus muttered something under his breath, words which sounded rather suspiciously like 'bollocks' and 'Lily', but Harry could not catch what the other man said as it was completely drowned out by Sirius' voice.

"So with that being said, oh lovely cousin of mine, of _course_ I'll try my luck at it! But I'll save that for a later day. Because why go for that bit of low-hanging fruit right now when I can just call you by your full name. Eh, _Nymph-_a-dora?"

Silence fell upon the table as Sirius' final words hung in the air. Then both Sirius and Dora blurred into action at a speed that left Harry gaping.

Two blazing jets of light shot across the table. Sirius pushed his chair backwards as he fell to avoid Dora's attack, while his own retaliatory strike caused Dora to fling herself to the side. The two adults fell to the floor where they exchanged another series of blasts that they each blocked and sent ricocheting around the kitchen. The two scrabbled to their feet as more jets of light flew forth from their wands.

While this was going on Remus calmly drew his own wand and waved it at Harry. A soft golden glow covered him while a matching glow soon surrounding Remus. The brown-haired professor shook his head at the two squabbling relatives. "Keep it under ten minutes you two. Harry's training starts in fifteen and I need at least one of you to be in decent enough shape to test out what he's learned thus far."

"Don't worry about it Remus, I've got this one in the bag. It'll be settled in five!"

"Ha! Cocky words from a decrepit old dog. Time to see if your _bite_ matches your _bark_."

With the terms of the fight settled and agreed upon the two duellists broke away from the kitchen in a mad dash towards the outside. The sound of combat spells being exchanged soon filled the air while a stoic Remus and a rather bemused Harry remained in their seats.

Harry looked around the kitchen and shook his head. Sirius and Dora's little fight had shattered at least half a dozen cups, broken two cabinets, and broken what looked to be an entire spice rack. The place was a mess and the sounds of fighting following the duelling pair of magic users through the house meant that things were probably just as much of a mess elsewhere as well.

"I'll handle the dusting and the trash," Harry offered.

Remus gave a long suffering sigh as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with one of his hands. "Thank you, Harry, for being so responsible for your age. Sirius, it would seem, is destined to never reach your level while I am beginning to have my doubts regarding miss Dora." The man then stood up and lifted his wand. "While you do that I'll fix the broken china and put everything back in place. Then I want you to get yourself ready for your afternoon training, because I have a feeling that whomever wins their little fight is going to work you over with a vengeance."

Harry gave a shudder at the thought. His afternoon sessions were already enough to leave him dropping from exhaustion. If today's training was going to top that, then Harry needed as much time to prepare himself for it that he could get. It was at times like this that Harry truly wished Hermione was living at the Cottage with him. Having someone at his side while suffering things such as crazy teachers and ridiculous training was infinitely better than going through it alone.

* * *

"Honey, look around! Isn't this place amazing? Hogwarts was incredible and all when we went to visit it the summer before your first year, but wow! "

"Yes mum, I get it." Hermione replied tiredly. "Beauxbatons is gorgeous to look at."

"Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe this place! It's like something out of a princess fairy tale. Hogwarts is impressive and all, but this place _really_ takes the breath away."

"Yes, dad. It is certainly amazing." Hermione said rather grumpily. "But don't you even _think_ of trying to get me to stay. I love Hogwarts. I love the teachers at Hogwarts. And I _love_ my friends there too."

Daniel Granger chuckled at his daughter's words. "I wouldn't dare to even consider moving you, sweetheart. I can tell how much you love the place from the stories you tell of it. Besides, your mum already told me all about that nice boy you like and I wouldn't want my baby to hate me for ripping her away from her first love. But, well, can you really blame me for being excited? I mean, look! They have Pegasi here! As in giant bovines with wings! Don't they look amazing?"

"They're winged equines, dear, not bovines," Emma Granger chided. "Please get your magical animals correct."

"Ah, you're absolutely correct m'love. I hope that I didn't embarrass Hermione too much with my mistake."

Hermione Granger, proud member of Gryffindor and a girl who was often hailed as the brightest witch of her age, barely managed to bite back the exasperated groan building up within her chest as she listened to the two prattle on. Today was the day that she and her parents were touring the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and it was turning into everything that Hermione had feared.

She loved her parents dearly, but dear _gosh_ did the two of them know how to cause a scene. She had already had to drag them away from a cave of dancing crystals earlier. Meanwhile, the less said about her father's reaction to the forest of Nymphs, the better. That particular incident would surely give Hermione nightmares in the future and did not bear thinking about at all.

While Hermione was trying to think of a good way to put a lid on her parent's enthusiasm, the little wisp of a girl who was acting as their guide for the day gave an amused giggle. "Zey are quite ze silly ones, non?"

Neither of her parents were acting anywhere close to their age. Before she closed her eyes Hermione saw her father, one of the most successful dentists in all of Britain, currently trying to see how close he could get to the enclosure holding the Pegasi without scaring them. While her mother, an equally famous and successful dentist in her own right, appeared to be hell-bent on aiding her husband as she attempted to scale a tree overlooking the pen.

All in all, Hermione knew that she should be worried about it. But she had grown numb to the feeling of worry as their escapades had gone on throughout the day. Perhaps giving up and pretending that she was temporarily blind, dumb, and deaf was the wisest course of action Hermione could take when dealing with this hopeless cause.

"You wouldn't know the half of it," Hermione finally muttered in reply.

The little girl beside her gave a second amused giggle. "But zat eez okay, I zeenk. Eet eez tres magnifique!"

Hermione gave the girl a questioning look. In Hermione's experience most wizards and witches were not quite so accommodating when it came to muggles. Yet ever since they had met more than an hour ago the little girl had shown nothing but patience and good grace in her dealings with Hermione's exuberant parents. When combined with the girl's apparent amusement at their rather silly antics instead of the normal annoyance or condescension Hermione had encountered in the past, it combined to paint an unusual picture.

Gabrielle Delacour was certainly an odd one.

Yet Hermione felt indebted to the girl for her continued tolerance so she refrained from saying anything critical and tried to focus on the positive. Which was that she had apparently met an interesting foreign witch that was around her age, thereby opening the door to learning more about a magical society other than that of wizarding Britain.

"Although we have already been introduced to one another, I think that I would like to do so again." Hermione held out a hand to the girl beside her. "My name is Hermione Granger and I am a fourth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Gabrielle placed her dainty hand in Hermione's and shook it gently. "Ma nom eez Gabrielle Delacour, and I am a zecond year zudent at ze Beaxbatons Academy of Magique. Ze pleazure eez mutual, 'Ermione."

The two witches shook hands and watched as Hermione's parents, having reached the boundaries of the Pegasi enclosure, proceeded to coo and click at the winged equines like a pair of crazy tourists who had been too long on Safari. Having already been told by Gabrielle that the enclosure was charmed to prevent all non-allowed personnel from entering, Hermione had no worries that they would get hurt by the beautiful animals. So she focused her attention on the young girl beside her and did what she did best in situations like this.

Which was asking questions as fast as she physically could.

"So, um, Gabrielle, would you mind telling me about yourself? You see, back where I'm from most witches and wizards don't seem to like muggleborns like myself – they can actually be quite intolerant at times, especially those who come from the so-called 'pureblood' families – but you seem to be very accepting. Is it something that is different about magical France? Or is it something else, like how your parents raised you? Oh! Or are you also a muggleborn like me? Because that would explain a lot."

Gabrielle gave a shrug of her tiny shoulders. "Eet eez nozing speciale. Zeese Academy, while very wonderful, 'az people in it 'oo can be quite mean. And while I am not born of non-magicalz – what you Engleesh call ze mugglez – ma grande soeur, Fleur, and I are much like you in a way. She and I are deefferent from most ozzer weezardz and weetchez. And while ze lawz of ze French Miniztry of Magique do protect us, ma soeur and I steell face much discrimination."

Gabrielle's words caused Hermione's brain to start working furiously. From what she could tell the little girl seemed to be as normal as any other other witch Hermione had ever met. Gabrielle had above average looks – well above average if Hermione were to be honest – but nothing else which would seem to differentiate her from the average witch or wizard Hermione had encountered thus far. Which, if viewed from the perspective of an average muggle, was probably quite an odd thing to think. But as someone with a foot in both worlds Hermione felt that she was uniquely qualified to make such an observation.

"But – but _why?_" Hermione blurted out upon failing to think of an answer. "What's so different about you and your sister? While I have yet to meet her, from what I can tell you seem to be a nice and wonderful person."

Gabrielle gave Hermione a sad smile. "I zank you for saying zat, 'Ermione. And we are. But sometimez, people, zey do not zink wiz zere brains, non?"

Hermione grimaced to herself as Gabrielle's words struck true. Whether it was regarding Ron and his boneheaded stubbornness or Draco's vile vitriol, Hermione was well acquainted with people who did things without thinking. And how, more often than not, she was the one on the receiving end of it.

"Yes, I guess that you are right about that," Hermione murmured in reply. "But still, why would they target you and your sister? There has to be some sort of reason for it. In England I'm targeted either because I am too smart, or because my parents are muggles, or because my closest friend happens to be rather famous. Is it something like any of that for you too?"

Gabrielle cocked her head to once side as if in thought. "Eet eez not quite ze same, but eez somewhat close. Ze reazon zat ma grande soeur and I are not liked by ze ozzers eez because of our 'eritage. Our mère et grand-mère are what most weezards and weetchez call Veela. And zough neizer ma soeur nor I are full Veela, ze fact zat we 'ave Veela blood eez enough to cause many people to 'ate us."

Gabrielle's answer caused something to jiggle loose in Hermione's head.

"Veela, Veela… where have I heard that term before," Hermione said aloud as she wracked her brain for answers. "I'm sure that I've read about it somewhere."

After a moment's thought it came to her. She had actually run across it in the reading that Dumbledore had assigned to her regarding Harry's powers. One of the writers had been describing the abilities and trials of people like Harry, several of whom had briefly encountered what were described as a race of sapient creatures referred to as Veela.

According to the book Veela were theorized to be human-creature hybrids. They were thought to contain the blood of both humans and sirens as they could transform between the physical forms of both at will. They also had strange abilities that the author refused to go into detail about, only warning that all men should exercise extreme caution when dealing with them and that one of the lesser heroes of the age, Xeno the Unfortunate, had met his end shortly after bedding one.

Given the age of the book and the writer's clear bias against both non-humans – an entire chapter had been devoted to the feats of one hero who had 'bravely and cleverly' enslaved an entire clan of Goblins – and women in general, Hermione was not willing to accept all of its assertions as the total truth.

When she repeated what little she knew of Veela to Gabrielle, the little girl gave a soft chortle of laughter. "I 'ave 'eard far worse zan zat, 'Ermione. Such az Veela being ze un'oly offspring of people and Succubi, or ze children of Eve and ze Devil after she bit from ze fruit of knowledge."

"Really? Why would someone say those things? That doesn't seem to make any sense." Hermione frowned at Gabrielle's words. The book Hermione had read had made no mention of either possibility. And although it made sense regarding the second one since Christianity had not yet risen by the time the book had been written, succubi and creatures like them had been quite well known by the time the Greek author had written his tome.

"'Oo knowz for sure? I certainly do not. But eef I were to guess, eet probably comes from jealousy over ze giftz zat many 'oo are Veela, or 'oo 'ave Veela blood, pozess." Gabrielle gestured towards her body. "For eenstance, most of zose 'oo 'ave Veela blood are très beautiful. Boyz weesh to be wiz us, and girlz are often scared of uz stealing zere men away. And zough I do not 'ave any of the ozzer abilities which come from 'aving Veela blood, ma grande souer, Fleur, 'az nearly all of them. One of which eez known as ze Allure, which can make any nearby boy or man who eez weaker zan 'er become eenztantly attracted to 'er, to ze point zat zey may begeen to drool or act out on zeir more primal thoughtz."

Hermione's eyes flashed as she considered Gabrielle's words. Now that she had more information Hermione could see why Gabrielle and her sister were so disliked. After all, how would Hermione feel if there was a girl like that around Harry? One who was as beautiful as Gabrielle, as smart as Hermione herself, and who could possibly take control of his affections whenever she wished.

It shamed Hermione to admit it, but a part of herself was happy that there was no one like that at Hogwarts. Because while she was okay with sharing Harry with one or maybe two other girls, that was only because Hermione was confident in Harry's feelings toward her. If something else was added to the mix, like magic which could alter a person's state of mind, then Hermione would no longer be quite as confident in keeping Harry's affections.

Because magic which could control or affect a person's mind or thoughts was _scary_. Her fellow students at Hogwarts might laugh about love potions, but to someone who had been born in the muggle world the notion that someone could forcibly change how she felt about something was frightening to the extreme. One only had to look at Ginny's second year to see the extreme example; the shade of Voldemort had forced the youngest Weasley against her will to slaughter Hagrid's chickens and let loose a murderous Basilisk upon a school full of children.

Something in Hermione's silence must have given her thoughts away, because Gabrielle's bright eyes began to dim. Hermione caught sight of it and instantly knew that she was at a crossroads. Her thoughts began to blaze through her mind as she considered which path she would take.

Would she reject Gabrielle, or someone like her, just because they were born differently? Because they had different abilities than those around them? Or would Hermione, someone who was discriminated against just for being who she was, accept Gabrielle and all that she represented?

It was in all honestly too big of an issue for Hermione to decide upon all at once. But the action that she needed to take in the here and now _was_ obvious and she made her decision on whether or not to do it in an instant. Hermione leaned over so that she could wrap Gabrielle's tiny form in one of her patented hugs. A hug which caught the younger girl completely off-guard and which was only tentatively returned.

"I'm sorry that I went quiet like that, Gabrielle," Hermione said quietly. "I really, truly am. I can only imagine what you thought that I might have been thinking. And what's worse is that you would probably be right."

Hermione drew back to look into Gabrielle's eyes. "While I can't say that having someone around who could potentially steal away the boy that I love would not worry me – because it really, _really_ would – I think that you are an amazing person and that I would be the world's _biggest_ hypocrite if I decided to hate or dislike you just because you have a different heritage than me. I know that we've only known each other a short while, but I like you. And I think that we could be friends. Maybe even good friends someday. So, if you are willing, please accept my apology for being a bit of a tiny-brained ninny; I promise to never do it again."

Hermione drew in a deep breath after letting loose such a long rant. Gabrielle's doll-like face stared back at her as the pretty girl seemed to process everything that Hermione had just said.

After a minute of holding a hesitant expression, the younger girl gave Hermione a bright smile. "Eet eez okay, 'Ermione. I weell not 'old it against you. I would very much like to be friendz wiz you az well."

"Good!" Hermione gave a happy burst of laughter as she gave Gabrielle another hug, one which the other girl returned far more tightly than the one before. "Now with that little bit of nonsense on my part out of the way, I think that it would be a fair trade if I were to begin telling you about myself. Is there somewhere you would like for me to begin?"

Gabrielle gave a quick nod of her head. "Yes. When you were making ze apology to me, you said somezing about a boy zat you like. Could you tell me 'oo 'e eez and what 'e eez like?"

Hermione flushed scarlet and silently cursed her big mouth. All she had to do was make a simple apology and there she had gone and mentioned things which had no bearing on the situation at all. Stupid, stupid, stupid Hermione! But since Gabrielle had requested that she talk about it Hermione would honour the younger girl's request.

Maybe talking about Harry with Gabrielle could end up being a new and pleasant experience. Hermione had only talked about her feelings for Harry with her mum; her dad had tried to say something on the subject, but she had stuck her fingers into her ears and ignored him. Talking about it with another girl who was close to her age, and who probably had no idea who Harry even was, could serve as a useful trial run for talking about it with girls back at Hogwarts.

After a moment's silence to collect herself, Hermione marshalled her thoughts and dove into the subject wholeheartedly.

"Well, you see, he's a really special boy to me," Hermione began. "He's someone that I've known since the day we first went to Hogwarts and ever since then he's become my best friend in the entire world. He's smart, and handsome, and really, really brave, even if he doesn't think so himself. And although we haven't said anything to each other, I know that he likes me too, and I hope to tell him how I feel before we start school again."

"Awww. 'E soundz tres magnifique!" Gabrielle said as she clapped her hands in excitement. "I weesh zat I 'ad a boy like zat 'ere too. What eez 'iz nom?"

Hermione twiddled her thumbs together. "Well, he's somewhat famous back in Britain, so you might have heard of him before. Does the name Harry Potter ring any bells with you?"

Gabrielle's utter squeal of excitement at hearing Harry's name should have served as Hermione's warning to switch subjects. Because as Hermione soon learned, Gabrielle Delacour was _very_ familiar with Harry's name and happened to be _very_ interested in learning more about him.

* * *

As he watched the little girl who had been acting as their guide fling her short arms around his daughter's shoulders and proceed to jump up and down in excitement, Daniel Granger smiled happily to himself. His daughter had always had a difficult time in making new friends, so seeing it happen this quickly was a rare and wonderful sight.

Daniel nudged his wife as she stood beside him. "Do you think that we should interrupt?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope. The two of them seem to be enjoying themselves without us. Besides, if she and Hermione are really as distracted as they seem to be, maybe you and I can sneak off on our own for a bit. I saw a few other places on the school's brochure which could be rather… fun… to visit."

Daniel's eyes sparkled at the thought and he nodded his head without hesitation. "Lead on, my dear. Lead on!"

The two adults then snuck away as quietly as they could, holding in their laughter until they were sure that they were out of earshot. After which the two parents chortled like little children as they proceeded to do what every muggle parent of a young witch or wizard dreamed of doing.

Run around a bunch of magical buildings and explore them to their hearts content without any supervision whatsoever.

When they were driving back to their latest hotel hours later, even as their red-faced daughter was giving them a stern lecture over what was and was not proper behaviour at a place of learning regardless of it being magical or non-magical in nature, both parents were sporting grins wide enough to swallow the Tower of London.

**A/N:** Now _this_ was a chapter that I really enjoyed writing. It was one of the easiest to do from beginning to end and seemed to have a wonderful flow. Characterization galore, foreshadowing, and red herrings dropped all over the place. I am really looking forward to reading the reviews and seeing where you all think that I am heading with the story.

My apologies to those of you who do not like reading accented English; I do understand that it is not something which everyone enjoys reading. But it is something that I have personally enjoyed reading, be it in canon Harry Potter or many other wonderful series as I feel that it can add a unique flavour to the story. It is also an area in which I seek to grow my own skills as a writer. So if I did a terrible job with it, then let me know so that I can improve before I start writing the scenes featuring Fleur and Krum lol.

The document program I currently use for my writing makes using proper grammatical accents for any language other than English a pain, so expect to see quite a bit of bad formatting on that end. It's an issue that I am aware of and would love to correct, but until I get a better program I am stuck.

Updated on 3/11/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	22. Chapter 22: Training and Tickets

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Training and Tickets**

Harry grunted as he dodged a brown blast of light. The spell narrowly missed hitting his head, shooting past to splash harmlessly upon the stone wall behind him. Harry was not certain what sort of spell it had been, but given the personality of his opponent he had no desire to find out firsthand.

Raising his own holly wand, Harry pointed it at the fiery haired woman standing before him and let loose a spell that Sirius and Remus had taught him shortly after arriving at the Cottage. According to the two men, it was an essential ingredient in any wizard or witch's arsenal, and was one of the best ways to disable a person without risking permanent damage.

"_Stupefy!_"

A jet of red light shot towards Harry's opponent. Any hopes of actually winning the fight, though, were immediately dashed when Dora blocked the spell with a lazy flick of her wand. "Nice one, Harry. I'm impressed that you can already use that type of spell. It's not one most people your age could do.

Harry glowered at the young woman. "Please don't patronize me. You handled that like it was nothing."

"Yeah, but that's because I'm just that awesome! Ha! You'll get there in time. But for now, let me show you show it's _supposed_ to be done."

Dora raised her wand and, without saying a word, sent three red blasts of light shooting towards Harry. Saying a quick curse in his head at the unfairness of silent spellcasting, Harry snapped his wand into a circular motion and cast a second spell taught to him by Remus and Sirius.

"_Protego!_"

A hazy, semi-transparent shield sprung into being in front of Harry's body. The shimmering white light shuddered as Dora's three stunners slammed into it, but managed to remain intact. Yet Harry felt little relief, because he could see Dora's wand flashing as the young woman continued to cast spell after spell at him.

Giving it his best shot, Harry gamely held onto his wand as a fusillade of spells rained down on his position. Green spells, magenta spells, gold ones and silver ones. An entire rainbow's worth of different colored spells hit Harry's shield as Dora cast them nonstop. And although Harry was quite powerful for his age, maintaining the shield was draining his well of power dry faster than it could replenish.

The shield collapsed with a loud bang when a decidedly familiar pink colored spell hit it. The resulting backlash caused Harry to stagger backwards. Something slammed into his chest, hard, and the next thing Harry knew he was staring up into Dora's smiling face.

Harry gave a grunt as a familiar pain began to spread throughout his body; although the stunning spell did not cause direct physical damage, it always left him feeling groggy and achy. Not one to show anger over losing to a better opponent, even if he was embarrassed over how easily she had done it, Harry gripped the arm Dora proffered and used it to haul himself upright, giving an annoyed groan as his joints popped.

"I didn't even see you cast that stunner," Harry said as he rolled his stiff shoulders. Dora stepped back and gave him some room to stretch, not even bothering to hide her cheeky grin at his expense. "That _was_ a stunner, right? And not something else?"

Dora laughed as she swept a short fringe of hair out of her eyes. "Yeah yeah, it was a stunner alright. No need to worry your pretty little head, Harry. I said that I'd show you how that spell was used, and that's what I did." The young woman made an off handed gesture and spoke in an official sounding voice. "As my Auror instructors like to say, 'Training is serious business. Treat it like it's your life on the line.' You can have fun _before_ or _after_ you train, but you should always keep things serious and professional while you _are_ training."

Then, as if unable to stand the solemn atmosphere that she had created, Dora gave Harry a saucy wink. "Unless, of course, it's a different type of training… but that's something you probably won't be interested in doing for at least another year. And while you're much too young for my tastes, I'm certain that there will be at least one or two good looking girls at Hogwarts interested in taking you under their wing for some… extracurricular education, as one might call it. Ha! I might even be able to put in a good word for you if you're interested in some of the upper years who were around when I was still there."

Harry flushed at that. Fighting against her was one thing, but Harry would be caught in the Great Hall with his drawers down before he ever discussed his romantic life with the young woman standing before him. Dora's open teasing was able to penetrate his seemingly divine ability to ignore the romantic advances of those around him – _if_ the Game's description of Harry's _Oblivious_ trait could be believed –, and he hoped to the powers above that she was as uninterested in him as she claimed. Because if she were ever to turn her attention on him in full, then Harry was certain that the young woman would have his head spinning from sunup to sundown.

His mind flashed to Cho Chang as he wondered what it might be like to have her flirt with him in such a way; he did not think that it would ever happen, but a boy could dream. And for the next few seconds, dream he did of the beautiful Asian girl, flying up to him on a broom with her jet black hair dancing in the wind.

After indulging in this unlikely scenario for a bit, Harry then tried his best to banish all such thoughts; if he did not, then Harry feared that he might never be able to look at a broomstick the same way ever again. "I, uh, sorta like someone but, um, I don't want – I mean, I don't think that you could – er, I mean, I think that I'm okay and don't need any help. Really."

Dora's cheeky grin widened at Harry's stammered response, and Harry felt a code feeling of horror wash down his back. He might still only be getting to know her, but the grin on the young woman's face spelled nothing but trouble.

The woman's fiery red hair morphed into its usual hot pink color as she sauntered over to him. "Oh? What is this? Unless my ears deceive me, it sounds like you may already have your eye on a certain someone."

Yep. Harry was officially in trouble. He tried to stammer out a response to her, but Dora did not allow him to finish.

The young woman's eyes twinkled as she continued to speak, her shapely hips swaying from side to side as her saunter carried her ever closer to Harry's position. "Aw, no need to be so shy with me, Harry. C'mon, you can tell me all about her. I promise not to tell anyone else her name. Heck, I might even be able to help you out in getting her attention; you couldn't ask for a better wing-man than me."

Harry felt the sweat already streaming down his body from the workout that had just ended quicken itself as he tried to back away from the grinning woman. "No, nope, not at all. I, uh, I misspoke just now. I don't really have a crush on anyone. Honest!"

"Hmm… now why don't I believe that?" Dora's full on grin faded as she peered into his eyes. Her look changed into that of a hunting predator; a look which Harry was certain would soon be leveled at many a magical criminal upon the completion of her Auror training. "It looks like I'll need to get… persuasive… in order to loosen that uncooperative tongue of yours, Mr. Potter. The question is, should I be nice about it? Or forceful?"

Harry heard himself begin to stammer nonsense as his mind went blank at her words. Thankfully for Harry's poor brain, Remus chose this moment to come to Harry's rescue. The brown-haired werewolf calmly walked over to the two of them from his observation location and looked them both up and down.

"Alright Dora, that's enough teasing for one day. I think that Harry's entitled to a little privacy in that particular area." Remus said gently. When Dora opened her mouth to argue with him, the older man leveled a stern look at her which caused her mouth to click shut. "Besides, it's time to finish the training session with a breakdown of what happened. Harry, like always, we will start with you. What do you think that you did right, and what do you think that you did wrong?"

Harry grimaced to himself as Dora muttered what sounded like various threats at Remus under her breath. While he was as honest a person as anyone, going over his mistakes in detail was rarely enjoyable. And in the mock battle he had just waged against Dora it felt like he had made mistake after mistake.

"To be honest I'm not sure _what_ I did right," Harry said glumly. "Dora seemed to have me on the defensive from the moment we started the duel and I was never able to regain the initiative."

Remus nodded. "True. That fits with my own observations. But try to be a little more specific. What actions do you think worked, and what actions did not work."

Harry pondered Remus' instructions before replying. "Um, if anything I'd say that dodging seemed to work best for me. I was able to use the trees and everything else to block some of her spells while I evaded the rest. And while Dora clipped me a couple of times, I was only beaten over the head when we got into contests of strength or she was able to pin me down to a single location."

"An excellent analysis, Harry. I hope that you will bring such clear thinking with you into the classroom this coming year. If you do, then it shall serve you well."

Harry blushed at Remus' praise. It also helped to mollify any lingering feelings he had over his own performance. While never one to be stingy with a kind word, it was rare for the older man to be so effusive in his praise outside of the classroom.

Remus turned to face Dora. "Now, before I get into my own observations, I'd like to hear your thoughts on the matter as well."

The young Auror-in-training gave a curt nod before speaking. "To put it simply, I'd agree with Harry's thoughts. He shows a good, natural grasp of using the terrain to his advantage. Maybe it's his Quidditch training, but he shows an exceptional ability to weave in and out of cover; I actually had to put some effort into flushing him out of that strand of trees."

Harry winced at the memory. He had really thought that he was on to something with it; he had made a break for the small forest at the property's edge, and in doing so had used its dense foliage to block much of Dora's spells. But just when he thought that he might be able to start launching a counterattack on her Dora had started to use spells which had a large areas of effect. As Harry had no desire to be continuously hit by explosions of scalding water or clouds of noxious gas, he had left the forest's protection and made his way back to the Cottage. A decision which ultimately proved to be his undoing.

Dora tapped her wand against her chin in a thoughtful manner as she continued to speak. "As for what Harry did wrong, well, that's a much longer list. His arsenal of both offensive and defensive spells is abysmally low. That made it easy to counter anything he used with the proper counter-charms. He gave away his intentions – looking at a place and then running there, or looking straight at a place and then casting at it make for obvious tells – and he failed to take advantage of the openings that I purposefully left for him. Then there's his tendency to stake everything on one final stand like he did right on the end. That only works if you're desperate, have an ambush planned, or are stronger than your opponent. And if you're relying on the first one, then you're likely to lose nine times out of ten."

**Ding!**

The young woman's brutal assessment caused Harry to flinch, perfectly covering up his start from receiving an unexpected notification from the Game. He would check on whatever the Game had sent him later, because while Harry knew that he could have done better, Dora had just made him sound awful! It totally wiped away the warm feeling he had gained from Remus' praise just moments earlier.

Remus gave Dora a bemused look. "Well, now that we have the professional Auror's assessment of a recruit in training out of the way, how would you grade Harry for someone of his age."

"Aha! Well, in that case I'd have to say that he did a bloody good job! Harry's way ahead of where I was when I was his age, that's for sure. Top marks for creative thinking during combat, and he has a natural elusiveness when moving that makes hitting him difficult." Dora leaned over and rubbed Harry's head affectionately. "Given a few more years of training like this and he'll grow up to be a powerhouse for sure."

Harry scowled and lifted Dora's hand away from his head. The young woman ignored him and just used her other hand instead. And while she was very, very cute, it turned out that she was also very, very strong. To the point that he was unable to stop her and could only give in.

"Gee, thanks for that," Harry muttered as Dora continued to rub his head. "That makes me feel loads better."

"Anytime!" Dora replied in a chipper tone. "Chasing you around today was fun. Loads more fun than chasing one of Moody's toy mannequins; those things don't talk much, but they pack some nasty hexes if you aren't careful."

Harry rolled his eyes. Hearing her say that made him feel like he was a Snitch and she the Seeker, a reversal of roles which he did not approve of in the slightest. Especially when her method of catching him involved knocking him out cold.

Remus gave a gentle cough into a closed fist to recapture their attention. "In any case, Harry, Dora was right in both of her assessments. You are certainly far ahead for someone in your age bracket – not even James or Sirius were your equal when they were your age, and both of them stood head and shoulders above our peers at Hogwarts –, but you _do_ have a number of areas in which you can improve. Some of that can be taken care of immediately – for instance, Sirius and I will be introducing more spells to you in the coming weeks – but other parts will need to be worked on over time."

Harry perked up at that. He enjoyed learning new spells, and training with Dora had been fun. Well, except for the end bit. The part where she had knocked him out and then interrogated him on his love life had been less than enjoyable, as had her tear-down of his performance. But engaging in a mock battle against her that challenged his abilities and showed Harry where his limits currently lay was something that he _had_ enjoyed doing.

"Like what, Remus?" Harry asked. Getting some more clarification could not hurt, and he could see what the Game might offer in terms of assistance.

"Mainly how you think and react when in combat. Your instinctive grasp of knowing how to dodge and evade, and your use of the terrain to your advantage, will be a great asset to your future development; Dora mentioned those positive aspects for a very good reason, mainly that they are rare to find and can be difficult to teach. But what we will really need to work on are your tells – what Dora was referring to when she said that you gave your intentions away whenever you took action – as well as your tendency to try and stake it all on one final gambit. Those two things will take you both time _and_ effort to overcome."

The brown-haired man then gave a soft smile. "But enough of that. Now that the training is done we should get back into the house. I believe that Andromeda was able to make it here for her usual visit after all, and I know that Sirius has an announcement that he has been waiting to share with you since the day you arrived."

The serious portion of the talk done, Dora launched into Remus to complain about how he had ruined her fun when it came to interrogating Harry about girls. Remus retorted that its was his duty as Harry's Guardian to protect him from strange women, and that they did not come much stranger than her. The resulting argument between the two adults gave Harry the time he needed to discreetly check on the notification he had received from the Game.

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Auror Training**

**You Have Begun to Receive Training on Combat from an Auror**

**Complete the Training to Become One of Magical Britain's Finest**

**Quest Rewards:**

**+15 Levels**

**Auror Trained Trait**

**+5000 Reputation with Current or Former Aurors**

'**Auror' Title If You Choose to Join the Auror Corps**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

After he read it, Harry could not help but give a low whistle of appreciation. If he had known that training with Dora would have initiated something like this, then Harry would have _begged_ for Sirius and Remus to include her much sooner. Getting fifteen free levels for doing something that would most likely cause him to gain levels simply by going through it, all while helping him to learn new spells and combat skills along the way, was _absolutely_ worth doing. Harry saw no downside to accepting the quest and selected the 'yes' option immediately.

After getting rid of the resulting 'thank you for accepting' screen, Harry used another of the Game's features to look up the trait and title mentioned in the quest reward section.

_**Auror Trained:**_

_**Anyone bearing this trait has gone through, and passed, the necessary training to become an Auror. Gives an automatic +5 to all attribute stats, +1000 reputation with ordinary citizens, +5000 points with law enforcement individuals, and -50000 reputation with any follower of the Dark Arts. This trait can be removed or changed over time.**_

_**Auror**_

_**Anyone bearing this title is an active duty Auror. Automatically gives the same stats as Auror trained (attribute gains do not stack), access to secure facilities throughout Magical Britain, and access to special equipment and spells not available to the general public.**_

Harry passed through the trait quickly. He had already read it before as it had been included amongst Sirius' traits, only wanting to refresh its specifics in his mind. It was just as good as Harry had remembered; gaining it would certainly be useful the next time he had to face Voldemort or some other enemy.

As for the title… Harry was uncertain about it. It had a lot of positives to it, and becoming an Auror someday _did_ sound amazing. But Harry did not want to set his future in stone just yet. He was still only thirteen years old, soon to be fourteen, and settling on a career choice this early felt too soon. Maybe Hermione already knew what she wanted to do – and knowing her as Harry did, the brilliant girl probably already had five or more incredibly challenging careers planned out for herself –, but Harry was the sort of person who preferred to approach life in a far more loose manner.

So while becoming an Auror would be interesting, Harry figured that he would save it for the future. He wanted to finish playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, graduate, and then maybe take a year off like he heard was common in the Muggle world. Keeping his options open at the moment was far better, even if the Game dangled something cool and interesting in front of his face.

In the meantime, Harry would just have to find out how he could convince Dora to come around more often for training so that he could complete the quest and get the promised rewards.

"Hey! Dora, Remus, wait up for me," Harry called out. If he wanted to convince the soon-to-be Auror to come around more often to help with his training, it would be best to strike while the iron was still hot. "I have a couple of questions to ask."

* * *

Andromeda Tonks sighed as she fell into one of the comfortable chairs located in the Cottage's main sitting room. The chair's soft embrace calmed her tense muscles as she waited for the steaming pot of tea located nearby to finish steeping. It was still early in the afternoon, but she felt exhausted. Dealing with clashing egos and petty selfishness for hours on end could do that, even if she had ultimately proven to be the victor.

"So, 'Dromeda, what brings you here so early?" Sirius asked as he placed two empty cups next to the kettle. Her handsome cousin had been sporting a black eye when she had first arrived, but a quick healing charm on her part had taken care of it. "Dora told us that you would probably be busy for the next few hours and might not be stopping by for tea."

Andromeda closed her eyes and let her head lean back while she composed her response. After the calming embrace of the chair and the comfortable atmosphere which filled the Cottage, the last thing she wanted to do was to go over what she had just escaped. But knowing Sirius as she did, the man was unlikely to leave her in peace. So rather than be cajoled into it, Andromeda cut to the chase and spoke of her own accord.

"Well, what Dora told you should have been right. The Board of Directors for the Daily Prophet had a meeting scheduled for the afternoon and early evening. But things changed when the Chairman of the Board decided to make a bit of a power play." Andromeda allowed a little of the anger she felt at the man's foolish actions to bleed into her voice. "Shortly after Dora left, I received an emergency owl notifying me that the scheduled hour for the meeting had been changed. The new time was set within five minutes after the owl reached me, and any who arrived late would find the doors shut and sealed."

Andromeda opened her eyes to glare at her favourite cousin. "And let me tell you that it was a close shave as it were. Gregory, that old bastard, knew that more than half of the board was out for his blood and were planning on calling for a vote of no confidence in his leadership. He had warned his partners in crime about the manoeuvrer well in advance and tried to catch the rest of us off-guard; if he had succeeded, then that bloodsucking prick of a man probably would have called for _our_ removal in stead of his own."

Sirius cocked a shaggy eyebrow at her as he poured the steaming tea into two delicate cups. "But from the sound of things he didn't succeed." He handed one over to her, which she accepted gratefully. "Right?"

With a playful snort that she would never have given in public, Andromeda shook her head. "Of course he didn't! My allies and I were ready for him. And instead of catching us off-guard with his little manoeuvrer, he managed to totally infuriate those who had yet to take a stand in either direction." This time she allowed a note of victory to bleed into her voice. "As a result, things went _very_ well, and you are now looking at the new Chairwoman for the Daily Prophet's Board of Directors."

Smiling broadly, Sirius gave her a mock salute as he leaned back into his own chair. "Congratulations, oh dear cousin of mine! May your reign be long and prosperous, and never send any work my way. I'd find myself lost within a week, and probably cause you to be fired shortly thereafter."

A smile graced Andromeda's features at his words. She took a sip of her tea to hide it from him as she listened to him continue to prattle on.

For a person with such a grandiose and seemingly self-absorbed personality, it was so like Sirius to give such a self-deprecating view of his own worth while burnishing that of her own. It was as though the reason why the man tried to make himself shine so brightly was merely so he could transfer that lustre to those he cared for. He had done it for Andromeda and her sisters when they had all been children, and once they had started to drift apart due to family politics he had transferred it to his friends at Hogwarts.

To have it done for her once again brought along a pleasant warmth of nostalgia. It was something that her own Ted had done as well, and she had missed it dearly in the days since her husband's tragic death.

"I would dare say that you are wrong about that, dear Sirius." Andromeda said the words in a fond yet exasperated tone of voice. "You are _far_ more capable than your words suggest. You always have been."

"Psh! Lies and slander my good lady," Sirius said with an exaggerated wave of his hand. "Since my release I've worked hard at crafting a certain image, and becoming some sort of clerk would not fit into it at all. So while I thank you for the kind thought, oh wondrous vision of beauty, please allow my brittle bones to rest in peace as I enjoy the perks of becoming the greatest dilettante the magical world has ever seen."

Andromeda rolled her eyes. The notion of Sirius ever settling for being a rich playboy was as absurd as Lucius Malfoy coming out in support of Muggle rights. Once Harry went off to school she was certain that the man would do more than just dabble on the party scene, but he was too much a man of action to sit by and do nothing for the rest of his life.

Seeing as he had only been free from Azkaban for a few short months, Andromeda figured that she might as well let the man have his momentary delusions. After all, she could always pop them at a later point in time. "In any case, Sirius, this new position means that I will be a mite bit busier in the near future; I will not be able to come over as often as I might wish. I will have to apologize to both Remus and Harry when I see them today, as I shall greatly miss our conversations."

"But not me? I don't get get an apology or a fond farewell? Oh how you wound me sorely, my dear 'Dromeda." Sirius mimed a dagger digging deep into his chest and slumped into his chair in dramatic fashion. "Mortally so, and I shan't ever recover from thy terrible blow."

Andromeda reached over to give his arm a light slap. "Oh, hush you! If that were truly the case then you would have already been dead long ago. I know for a fact that Lily did _far_ worse to you, and I still remember what happened to you that night Minerva caught you and James sneaking near the Slytherin quarters."

Sirius' playful expression shuttered at her words while a shudder ran through his entire body. "Nope, nope. It never happened. James and I never did anything like that, and Minerva absolutely never caught us doing it. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Certainly," Andromeda drawled with a slight curve of her lips. Say what one might about the woman, but Minerva McGonagall took a very poor view of peeping and was highly effective in shutting it down.

Satisfied at having finally quieted Sirius's antics for the moment, Andromeda allowed the topic to drop and moved on. The two of them began talking about lighter subjects as they whiled away the time. Andromeda told Sirius about the latest news on both the political and gossip fronts. Sirius gave her some tips on how she could change her look for her new position, and against her better judgment Andromeda found herself thinking that he actually made sense. Laughing more than she could remember doing in recent history, Andromeda felt the remaining tension in her body drain away as she and Sirius simply enjoyed each other's company.

The two of them had just finished making an appointment by owl for her to use Sirius' stylist when Harry and the others walked into the room.

* * *

Harry looked at the seated Andromeda and smiled widely. The kind brunette, stunningly dressed in fancy wizarding robes as always, returned his smile and rose from her chair to greet them.

"Harry, Remus, it is a pleasure as always," she said with a regal nod of her head. She then paused before turning a somewhat disapproving eye to her daughter as Harry moved past. "And while it is always a pleasure to see you as well, Nymphadora, you forgot to close the door on your way out this morning. Again."

Dora winced. Whether it was at the use of her full name or the content of her mother's words, though, Harry did not know. "Oops! Um, yeah, sorry about that mum. I kind of tripped when I walked outside; I guess that that I forgot to turn around and make sure that it was closed before I went on my morning run."

"Quite," Andromeda said in clipped tones. "I am not a fan of allowing flies to possess unfettered access into our home, Nymphadora. Should it happen again, worrying about Mad Eye's latest test will be the _least_ of your issues. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mum," the young woman said glumly. Her hair had morphed into a rather plain shade of brown as she spoke in a contrite manner. "I promise that it won't happen again, mum."

"Good. Then sit down and join us for a spot of tea. I have some news to share with all of you."

Harry made no effort to hide the grin he shot at Dora from behind her mother's back. While he could not seem to get the upper hand with her, Andromeda clearly had a handle on her daughter. The annoyed scowl Dora shot his way in reply, as well as the way her hair changed colour to a vivid orange, was well worth whatever mischief she might visit upon him later.

However, that did not mean that Harry wanted that moment to come in the next few seconds. Seeking to draw Dora's glowering attention away from himself, Harry asked the room a question as he poured himself a hot cuppa. "Who's Mad Eye? I think that I've heard of him before, but I can't remember where. Is he one of Dora's teacher's at Auror training?"

If he was, then maybe Harry could complete some of the Game's quest with him. Anyone who was capable of training Dora and winning her respect had to be a good teacher.

Sirius gave his signature barking laugh as he answered. "Kiddo, that's not even the half of it. Alastor Moody is more than just one of Dora's teachers. Old Mad Eye is _t__he_ Master Auror; one of only two in living memory to hold that title, and from I hear Amelia Bones still has a ways to go before she's quite on his level. The man's fought more Dark wizards and witches than Dumbledore, survived a pitched fight with the Dark Lord himself, and has trained more Aurors than any other person in the history of the department. Including yours truly, as well as your father."

Harry's jaw dropped as he looked at Sirius' face. "Bull." He stated. Sirius had to be having him on, because there was no way all of what he said could be true. Especially the part about the man having fought against more Dark magic users than Dumbledore himself.

Remus chimed in from the side as he used a spell to apparate a fresh tray of scones from the pantry. "It's not a joke, Harry. Alastor really _is_ that amazing. I patterned part of your final exam, the obstacle course, after one of his own tests, and I consulted with him throughout the whole of last year. The man really is as crazy as his title might suggest, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also utterly brilliant."

"Besides, you should already be familiar with some of his work," Sirius said. "He and Dumbledore combined to leave you all that cool stuff in your room. I'm not sure about all of it, but I know for a fact that the Polyjuice and Sneakoscope were Mad Eye's ideas."

Dora jumped in at that comment. "Wait wait wait. Hold on a moment. Are you telling me that Mad Eye Moody, the man I'm trying to get to become my mentor, _voluntarily_ gave Harry a batch of Polyjuice potion?" The young woman's voice was tinged with disbelief as she switched her incredulous stare between Remus and Sirius. "Was it already keyed to people Moody had preselected?"

"Nope! The stuff was completely blank." Sirius said rather smugly. He was giving a suddenly stricken looking Dora a look like that of a little kid who had gotten away with stealing a cookie from the cookie jar and was now daring an adult to call him out on his behaviour.

"But-but-but that's illegal! It's a class three felony!" Dora stuttered out. The woman's hair had turned into a striking canary yellow as she tried to make sense of Sirius was telling her. Harry noted that it was not a good colour for her. "And he's the one who always goes on about 'Constant Vigilance', and how you should never trust someone who has a batch of unregistered and unkeyed Polyjuice potion in their possession."

"True. But tell me, Dora, when was the last time that Alastor said that _you_, or any of the other Auror hopefuls, should ever trust _him_?" Andromeda spoke quietly as she stirred her tea. "If I were to make a wager, then I would place money down on him having never told you that in a single one of his lessons."

Harry watched as Dora's hair went through a riot of colours. From yellow, to pink, to green, to red, and even a mousy brown. The colours seemed to shift with the expressions on her face as she went from embarrassed shock to anger, from anger to horror, and passed what looked like jealousy before finally settling on a glum look of resignation.

"That's the final test he's been hinting at all this time," Dora mumbled to herself. Harry poured the poor woman a fresh cuppa to calm her nerves, but she did not seem to notice. "It all makes sense now. That crazy bastard is going to throw us to the wolves during the exam, see how we react, and then try to ambush us right when we think that we're in the clear. And I'll bet that the person who's not caught off-guard by it is the person most likely to end up becoming his student."

After saying that last bit, Dora's hair turned back into its usual hot-pink colour. A decidedly nasty gleam entered her eyes, and Harry made sure to place Andromeda in between them. He did not want that gleam focused in his direction in revenge for his earlier misdeed against her.

"Well, now that I know what's coming, I'll definitely become his apprentice. And I'll make sure to give the old codger a taste of his own medicine during that final test, or my name is not Nymphadora Cassiopeia Tonks!"

"That's the ticket girl!" Sirius held up his teacup in a toast as he cheered her on. "Show him what a daughter of the House of Black can do!"

"Hey! I might be related to you, but I ain't no daughter of the House of Black, you fussy little aristocratic twatt."

And with that little bit the gathering settled into a comfortable atmosphere. Sirius squabbled with Dora regarding her lineage – he apparently wanted to formally accept both her and her mother back into the Black family when he was officially sworn in as the Family Head after the school year began, with Andromeda pressing him to include Narcissa as well – while Harry and Remus talked with Andromeda about her new position. Harry was excited for her, but found that he was also a bit wistful as well.

Although she had not been around for long periods of time, Harry had grown rather attached to the time he was able to spend with the older woman. Andromeda had provided a warm, stabilizing influence on the chaos that Sirius wrought on a daily basis, and had shown herself to be both kind and thoughtful. While Harry had not told her any of his deepest secrets, such as the Game, Andromeda had helped him sort through some of the lesser problems, such as understanding magical society, that had been facing him ever since he came to the magical world.

Yet all good things inevitably came to an end. It seemed that nothing good in Harry's life was destined to remain stable for very long, and he had long ago learned to appreciate them as they occurred. Besides, it was not like Andromeda would be leaving forever. She would just be a less frequent visitor, which only meant that Harry would need to treasure their time together all the more.

Harry was talking with her regarding what exactly her new position entailed – he was learning quite a lot about the actual work which went into journalism behind the scenes – when Sirius tapped his teacup with a golden spoon. All eyes in the room turned to face the dark-haired man as he cleared his throat.

"Well, before it gets to be too late and our guests have to be off, I did want to share a little bit of news with everyone. Although it's somewhat of an early birthday present to Harry, it's something that I hope we can all enjoy together."

Sirius reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a fistful of official looking tickets. Harry's eyes went wide in excitement as he read the lettering stamped all over the thin strips of paper, and he could not help but let out an excited gasp.

"In celebration of starting a new life together, and to honour our wonderful country, etcetera, etcetera, I went out and purchased a private booth for the duration of the World Cup. We'll have first rate seats, a fully stocked bar, and complimentary food service at all times. And best of all, we can invite anyone we want and ignore anyone we don't! Ha!"

**Ding**!

Harry ignored the Game's notification as he bounded out of his chair and gave his godfather a crushing hug. "Oh thank you Sirius! This is awesome! I can't wait to go!"

Sirius patted Harry's head and chuckled. "It's my pleasure, Harry. And while I know that it doesn't make up for all of the birthdays and special events that I've missed, I hope that we can use it to make a boat load of happy new memories."

After that, the others crowded in around Sirius to ask questions of their own. Dora wanted to know if they had the private box for the entire tournament or just part of it, and if she could invite some of her friends and fellow Auror trainees. The answer to both questions was yes, with the stipulation that any friends who were invited could not have any sticks up their rears.

Seeing as that only barred the likes of Draco Malfoy and Percy Weasley, neither of whom Harry had felt like inviting in the first place, Harry had nothing to say regarding the rule. He instead proposed a quick round of flying around the pitch in celebration, a suggestion that was seconded by Sirius and a jubilant Dora.

Several hours later the excitement at knowing he would soon be able to see Quidditch being played at the highest level still had yet to wear off. It was only when Harry opened the Game's notification screen shortly before bed time that his mood dampened. Because what he saw brought an end to the happy stretch of time Harry had been going through and brought back the grim reality that was his life.

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Attack on the World Cup**

**Dark Forces Currently Plan to Attack the World Quidditch Cup**

**Foil their Plans and Save the Day**

**Quest Rewards:**

**25 Levels**

**+5000 Reputation Points with the General Public**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

**A/N:** With this chapter I was finally able to get in a training scene. I hope that you enjoyed it :)

And quests! I know that it's been awhile, but as I mentioned in at least one PM they will be increasing in frequency as the story progresses; with the events of the World Quidditch Cup coming up, I plan to have Harry doing quite a lot. The _main_ sources of level gains for Harry et al in this story (but not the only sources) will be from the following: completing quests and defeating/surviving against powerful enemies; I'm going old-school D&D and RPG on ya'll with it, so MMO style grinding will have a rather low usage in this particular arena. The World Cup is a prime opportunity to start working these angles, so expect a few smaller quests with smaller level gains and rewards to pop up during the time there. Also, expect a much darker take on said events than was done in GoF. *Rubs hands in anticipation*

I also ran into a bit of a snag with the two chapters following this one. I really, really, _really_ did not like how they were written, so I decided to scrap what I had and rewrite them from scratch. And though I think that they are now much better, this change has caused a bit of a domino effect on the following chapter drafts; as a result of having to do such a massive general rewrite, I will be putting this story on a brief hold until I get back to having my usual stock of chapters. I don't expect the hiatus to last long, two weeks at the shortest, perhaps 4-8 weeks at the longest.

Let the games begin! (soon)

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	23. Chapter 23: Before the Cup

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Before the Cup**

More than a week since the Game's quest had appeared found Harry and his two Guardians were traipsing in the Scottish wilderness. Today was the grand opening ceremony for the World Cup and Harry had not wanted to miss it. He was excited about seeing the highest level of the sport he loved to play and could not wait to foil the latest Dark plot that had wormed its way into his life. But not everyone agreed with him.

"I still think that this is a bad idea," Sirius grumbled as he flicked some dirt off of his stylish Muggle outfit. "We could have just stayed at the Cottage and read the papers. Reporters get paid good money to give accurate descriptions of the games and wizarding photographs are great at capturing the excitement of the moment."

"Sirius, you were the one who suggested that we come in the first place," Harry said in exasperation. His patience with his godfather's constant feet dragging had nearly reached its limit. "You were the one to buy the tickets! With your own money too, I might add."

"Yeah, but that was before that… that _thing_… forced on you by some higher being or whatever warned you about an imminent attack!" Sirius folded his arms against his chest as he kicked a nearby stone with his shoe. "Going there won't end well for anyone. Mark my words, kiddo. I've been exposed to enough things during my life to know when something smells wrong and this situation _reeks_ as being part of some Dark plot."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know, Sirius. That was pretty evident in the text given to me by the Game."

"Then why are we even here if you know that!"

"Because," Harry said in a firm tone of voice, "it would be wrong if we didn't come."

Harry meant what he said. He was no hero, but Harry firmly believed in doing the right thing. So when the Game of Death had sent Harry the quest notification regarding an attack on the Quidditch World Cup, Harry had known his answer shortly after reading the text. It was never a question of _if_ he should accept the quest and take action, but of what action he should take _when_ he accepted the quest.

That was just the sort of person Harry was. Who he had always been and who he was determined to always be.

But Harry had enough self-awareness to realize that he could not do things on his own. Without the usual company of Hermione, who was still in France, or Ron, who had retired from such escapades, that left Harry without his constant companions from his prior escapades. To that effect he had broached the subject with Sirius and Remus first thing in the morning, hoping to get their help in completing the quest.

To say that their reactions had not been what Harry had expected would be an understatement.

Neither man had been happy. Both had been angered that Harry had made the choice to accept the quest before he had spoken with them; Harry's argument that both men had been asleep, and thus unable to be contacted, had been blown out of the water. He was now under explicit instructions to contact them no matter what if something similar were to happen again. But while Remus had eventually calmed down, accepted the situation, and begun to focus on solving the looming issue, Sirius had only grown angrier as time passed. Which had lead to the first real argument that Harry had ever had with his godfather.

Sirius had tried to stop the group from going to the World Quidditch Cup at all. He had cited the Game's notification as being a forewarning of unacceptable danger towards Harry's well being. One which, as Harry's Guardian, Sirius could not in in good conscience allow Harry to face. That had been the first penalty Sirius had committed.

The second had come after Harry had pressed back at the man, saying that he was used to dealing with worse levels of danger with even less information to go on. Sirius' response to this had been to flatly state that he did not care. That it had been a result of Harry lacking any sort of responsible parental figure in the past and that thinking he could solve every crisis which popped up around him was certain to get him or those whom he cared for killed.

Were it not for Remus stepping in and firmly shoving both Harry and Sirius away from one another, Harry might have taken a swing at his godfather. He loved Sirius fiercely, but the man's words had _hurt_.

It was not Harry's fault that things kept going wrong around him. Nor was it wrong for him to try and stop those who kept trying to hurt him. That had been true before the Game of Death had come into his life and had not changed since. And sure, the professor's at school could have been more helpful in stopping _some_ of the events, such as when Quirrell went after the Philosopher's Stone, but there were also times where Harry was the _only_ one who could have stopped things from escalating. Like when Ginny had been kidnapped by Riddle's Shade and brought into the Chamber of Secrets. As the only Parselmouth in the entire school – possibly within all of Magical Britain – Harry had been the sole person with the ability to enter the Chamber of Secrets and put a stop to Riddle's plan.

Sirius, however, had held firm in the face of Harry's anger. He and Remus had even written to the Headmaster to seek the powerful wizard's advice. And while Harry might have applauded such an action on any other occasion – it was one that he had done many times before when confronted with a crisis – this time it had annoyed him beyond measure. Because every hour they delayed was an hour that could have been spent going preparing or searching for clues.

It took two days for Headmaster Dumbledore to write a terse reply. But when Remus had read it aloud to the room Harry could not help but pump his arm in vindication at what the great wizard had written.

_Alastor and others have been warned, but recent changes at the Ministry have prevented any increase in security. Do not expect much assistance through official channels._

_Shadows have begun to stir both at home and abroad; I have been detained by business at the I.C.W.. Proceed under young Harry's guidance, but do so with great caution._

_Albus_

The message was short and to the point. Best of all, having Dumbledore's support had quashed Sirius' position as the voice of reasoned authority. Harry had seized the moment and pressed the two men into helping him come up with a plan. With the help of Remus and a less than enthusiastic Sirius, the three of them had cobbled together a working plan. The first step of which involved actually going to the Cup so they could begin to lay the groundwork.

Which is why the three men currently found themselves traipsing through the highlands of Scotland on their way towards a Ministry designated Portkey. Harry had grumbled at the notion that he would have to do yet another strange type of wizarding travel – his experience with all but flying had been abysmal thus far – but that was just how it had to be; as part of the security procedures, no one was allowed to use any other type of travel method to reach the tourney grounds. Apparition was blocked, Floo ports disconnected, and broom flight forbidden.

It had also given Sirius plenty of time to air out his remaining grievances.

"Well, I don't care if it's wrong!" Sirius half-shouted as they made their way past a copse of short, scrubby trees. "It's what makes sense!"

"Then stay back and hide in the Cottage, Sirius," Harry snapped back angrily. His godfather's constant whining had finally whittled away the last of his patience. "I'm doing this with or without you. End of story."

Remus tried to press a gentle hand to Harry's back to calm him, but Harry shook it off. Instead he came to a stop and stared at Sirius, daring the older man to continue the argument.

The man's eyes flashed and he pursed his lips as if he were going to take up Harry's dare. But after saying nothing for several seconds the red began to leave his face and Sirius' body seemed to deflate. After which he stepped forward to place a hand on Harry's right arm.

"My goal isn't to save the world, Harry. My goal, the greatest one in my entire life, is to keep _you_ safe. And I would do almost _anything_ to make sure that happens." Sirius exhaled slowly before looking Harry straight in the eyes. "Though I don't want innocent people to be hurt, and I _am_ proud that you want to help protect them, I'm just afraid that following the poking and prodding of this… this Game of Death… which has latched onto you will someday lead you to your doom. _And I do not want to see that happen_!"

Harry listened to what Sirius had just said. He would be lying if he told his godfather that he had no doubts about the Game of Death. That he trusted it implicitly and felt that it had his best interests at heart. But where Harry differed from Sirius was on how useful the Game of Death could be for him. It had proven itself to be a reliable provider of information, be it on the ability to gather intelligence on his foes and environment, to shining a light on possible pathways he could take in the form of quests.

From what Harry could tell the Game of Death had the potential to become his ace in the hole. Something which could enable him to defeat the enemies that constantly threatened him while helping him to grow stronger in the process. And since it allowed him to save the lives of others while he was at it, Harry would have no regrets when it came time for him to face the Game's flaws.

Harry met Sirius worried gaze with a determined gaze of his own. "I understand Sirius. I do. I don't want you, or Remus, or Hermione, or anyone else I know and care for to be hurt either. But this is _my_ life and I can't just hide from danger whenever it comes around." Harry reached up to grasp his godfather's large hand with his own smaller one. "I'm not asking you to stand by and do nothing. I'm just asking that you trust in me, and to help me do what needs to be done. Okay?"

After a moment of silence during which Harry felt Remus hover nearby as he let Sirius and Harry work things out, Sirius gave Harry's hand a firm squeeze. His eyes looked sad, but he had a smile on his face as he spoke. "Alright kiddo. You've won this round. I'll stop complaining and help you with everything that I've got. But please understand that I want you to prioritize your own safety and that you should contact Remus or myself the moment you feel like something is out of place. Okay?"

Harry burst into a smile at Sirius' words. "You've got it!"

Then Remus came in and cuffed both of them on the head. "Good! Now that you've both stopped behaving like a pair of giants with bugs up their arses we can get going. Sirius, you take point with me just in case we run into anything on the way. Harry, set up that Party thing of yours just in case something happens."

Sirius and Harry obeyed Remus' commands and resumed their walk to the portkey site in relative good cheer. Along the way Sirius and Remus talked about the possibility of bringing in additional people to help search, mentioning the names of several old members of some kind of war era Order. While they went over things Harry used the silence and security of his surroundings to take a final stock of his current abilities.

"Menu."

**Ding!**

**MENU**

**GAMER STATS PAGE**

**ACTIVE PARTY MEMBERS**

**KNOWLEDGE COMPENDIUM**

**INVENTORY**

**OBSERVE**

**HELP**

After looking at the familiar screen for a moment, Harry decided to start with his stats page.

**Harry Potter**

****A young boy with the seeds of greatness within him, Harry has overcome the many challenges life has flung his way. He is determined, noble, and one of the best people anyone could have the pleasure of knowing. He can sometimes be prone to bouts of anger and frustration, but is always ready to laugh or cry with those he cares about. Harry does not know what he wants in life, but knows that it can only come after he is freed from the shadow of Voldemort. (See Character Page for Further Information)****

**Age: 13**

**The-Boy-Who-Lived**

**Heir Apparent to the Potter Family**

**Basilisk Slayer  
**

**Heroic Child**

**Golden Boy**

**Level 49**

**Stats:**

**STR: 59**

**DEX: 74**

**CON: 57**

**INT: 138**

**WIS: 116**

**CHA: 369**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Duellist**

**Survivor**

**Humble**

**Elf-Friend**

**Boy-Who-Lived**

**Half-Blood**

**School Quidditch Star**

**Possessor of a Deathly Hallow**

**Clutch Performer**

**Foe of the Dark**

**Battle Hardened**

**Dark Arts Magnet**

**A Mother's Protection**

**Weak Familiar Bond (Hedwig)**

**Peverell Bloodline**

**Walking Target**

**Oblivious One**

**Parseltongue**

**Headstrong**

**True Friend**

**Negotiator**

**Dedicated**

**Horcrux**

**Gamer**

He had not gained any new traits or titles, but the training with Dora and his two Guardians was beginning to pay off. Harry had managed to gain four levels under their guidance and his attribute stats had improved across the board. If he kept things up at this rate then Harry would soon be at a higher level than a Seventh Year Hogwarts student that was about to graduate. And given that he was already more powerful than all but Cedric Diggory at the end of last year, Harry felt that soon the only person close to his age who could give him a run for his money in a duel would be Hermione.

Harry closed out his status and brought up another screen, the Knowledge Compendium. Once there he navigated through the options and selected the Magic Mastery Index subsection.

**Magic Mastery Index**

**A Constantly Updated Index Containing the Current Mastery Level of Individual Spells and Schools of Magic Known to Harry Potter**

**Astronomy: 6%**

**Care of Magical Creatures: **

**Charms: 15%**

**Dark Arts: 3%**

**Defence Against the Dark Arts: 17%**

**Divination: 0%**

**Herbology: 9%**

**Mental Arts: 6%**

**Potions: 9%**

**Transfiguration: 12% **

Harry grinned at the sight. If the hastily crossed out and rewritten words in her letter on it had been any indication, Hermione had apparently flipped her lid when he had told her about this recent discovery. It was a Gamer only ability from what Harry could tell, which meant that not even party members could use it. This had caused Hermione to fume over how she would be unable to take advantage of it herself.

Each 'school' of magic listed was one which Harry had encountered and learned. Or in the case of Divination, what he had studied and failed to learn. Those schools Harry had only heard about, like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, were not listed, something which he figured would change if he were to study either subject in the future. And according to the Game, if Harry were to raise his proficiency level in a school to 25% he would then become an Adept in the subject and receive a corresponding trait. Harry had seen the trait on both Sirius and Remus and knew that it was pretty nice.

Curious as to what the path was at a higher level, Harry had asked the Game what came after the Adept level. It told him that if he were to raise his proficiency to 75%, then he would become a Master of that school. As for what might happen if Harry were to achieve 100%, or what bonuses he might receive upon gaining Mastery of a school, the Game was silent. Harry figured that it was because he had yet to either earn them for himself or see the stats page of someone else who had.

Harry selected the DADA school. After which he used the feature's in-depth assistance to look at some of the spells he had learned and what level of Mastery they were at as well.

**Expelliarmus**

**Mastery Level: 82/100**

**Protego**

**Mastery Level: 43/100**

**Stupefy**

**Mastery Level: 48/100**

**Riddiculus**

**Mastery Level: 67/100**

…

The list covered every D.A.D.A. spell Harry had learned over the past three years of schooling; plus the ones he had been learning over the course of his summer training; plus what he had learned on the side on his own and from Hermione as well. Battling was the best way to raise their level, but old fashioned practice had enabled Harry to raise the spell's various levels even when no one at the Cottage had been available to duel.

A harsh cough returned Harry's attention to his surroundings. Indicating that they were close to their destination Remus also motioned for Harry to stop what he was doing. Harry closed out the various Game screens he had been looking at and moved closer to the two older men, keeping a wary eye out on his surroundings just in case.

Something which soon proved to be a good idea. Because some days life just seemed to enjoy messing with Harry in ways that were less than enjoyable.

"Well, well, well, Father. Look who showed up." Draco Malfoy's disgustingly unctuous voice reached Harry's ears as he followed Remus and Sirius to the designated portkey location. "A mangy Werewolf, an escaped criminal, and the favoured fool of the idiotic masses. How lovely."

**A****N:** In addition to posting this chapter and another I have also posted a Glossary of terms, traits, and character stats. It's something that many of you have asked about for quite some time and I've finally gotten it complete. The plan is to keep it in the same chapter until this story is complete (more on that next chapter), after which I might move it to the end so as to not cause undue confusion.

This will also be the last 'info dump' chapter of this fic. You now have all the information about the Game of Death's various functions that I want you to have at this time, which means that the groundwork for my story is _finally_ complete.

Full steam ahead!

Updated on 3/12/2020

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	24. Chapter 24: Portkey Shenanigans

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Portkey Shenanigans**

Harry glared at Draco's smug little face. The near constant urge he felt to punch it upon seeing the stupid twit quickly rose within him.

Of all the people Harry had been expecting to encounter at the portkey site, Draco and his father had not been among them. The pair of blond prats were currently standing in the cool winter air with two other wizards, the posh wizarding robes of the group standing out in stark contrast to the Muggle attire worn by Harry and the others.

It seemed that, as usual, the rules issued by the Ministry were considered to be below the Malfoys. Designed to prevent magical folk from accidentally breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy on their way to the Cup, the Ministry's directive for all magical folk to wear Muggle attire when going to or coming from the Cup was supposed to have been obeyed by everyone.

Lucius gave Harry and Remus his customary thin lipped sneer in lieu of a proper greeting before turning to face Sirius. The blond-haired man tapped his gentleman's cane against a booted foot as he spoke. "Ah, Sirius, what an unexpected pleasure it is to finally see you again; I had thought this portkey had been reserved for ticket holders in good standing, yet I am delighted to have been proven wrong." The man's lips pursed as he gave Sirius a derisive frown. "How _have_ you been since we last met, anyway? It must have been, oh, nearly fifteen years ago, right?"

Sirius met Lucius' condescending look with a steely glare of his own. "Oh I've been positively _wonderful_, Lucius." Sirius' aristocratic drawl, usually light and nearly unnoticeable, thickened as he spoke. "After spending a few years at an island reserved for select clientele – a matter which I'm certain you know _all_ about seeing as how many of its long term residents are old friends of yours – I decided that it was time to stop allowing certain people to have their run of things back on the mainland. So I cut my time there short and made my triumphant return; it was all over the newspapers a few weeks ago. I was going to look you up sooner, but I suffered a nasty stomach ache at the thought and had to focus on my health. I'm certain that you understand."

"Quite," Lucius said in his own slow drawl. "You always did possess a rather _frai__l_ constitution. A shame that your time spent at the island was unable to correct it."

"If you'd like, I could see about having you take my old room. I _promise_ to put in a good word for you with the staff."

"That would be a _very_ kind gesture on your part, Sirius. However, I feel that I must decline your offer as I have far too many pressing responsibilities to shirk by taking a vacation anywhere at this time. Unlike some members of our venerated society I take my role as a pillar of the community very gravely."

Sirius rolled his eyes as he gave a laugh. "Now that's funny! From what _I_ hear, your ex has a rather different take on that. Would you like for me to go into detail? She's already given a few interviews where she describes your marriage as being, and I quote, a "cold, loveless, sham of a marriage, in which your highest goal was to increase the size of your pathetically small ego." I'm sure that the _venerated_ pureblood society would _love_ to hear about any extenuating circumstances you might wish to talk about."

Harry barely suppressed a laugh of his own at Sirius' words. He had not heard much about the divorce, but seeing Draco's father taken down a peg or three was great! The news about Narcissa's divorce had gone public two days ago and was all over the papers; under Andromeda's guidance, the Daily Prophet had taken an extremely harsh line against the Malfoys and had taken advantage of the scandal to launch several investigative pieces. Several other papers, including the Quibbler, had quickly followed suit, and rumours of foul business deals and improper personal behaviour had begun to swirl about.

Remus had no such compunction against laughing and gave a throaty chuckle at the comment. It was probably not a smart decision, considering that he was a Hogwarts professor and Lucius was a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, but in this situation Harry did not care. In fact, listening to Remus break with decorum inspired him. He made a motion, and when he noticed Lucius watching, Harry smiled and mimed reaching down to draw his sock.

Lucius' pale face went white as a sheet at the series of provocations. The gloved hand he used to grip the head of his cane tightened as the wand hidden within it was drawn out several inches. Draco and the two unnamed men beside him made to draw their own wands as well, the little blond's face flushing an ugly puce as he did.

Not to be caught unawares Harry and the rest drew their own wands.

Harry could feel himself itching to get into a fight, hoping that one would break out. Finally, a chance to let the Malfoy's have it! A chance to give them a taste of their own medicine in a place where no one would catch them. A place where Snape could not protect the snivelling little mongrel from his deserved punishment, and where neither Professor McGonagall nor the Headmaster could stop Harry from carrying it out.

A crackling tension filled the air as both sides looked at one another. Harry felt his free hand begin to twitch; across from him, he saw Draco's fingers tighten on his wand.

Harry hoped that the rotten maggot was the first to one to try something. The look the other boy was giving him reminded Harry rather uncomfortably of what the Game and Hermione had told him regarding Draco's romantic desires, causing the urge Harry felt to stuff a first into the other boy's face to grow ever more powerful.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Ahoy there everyone, what's this that I see?" A boisterous voice interjected itself into the tension, causing all eyes to switch to the speaker.

A sandy-haired man whom Harry did not recognize in the slightest was running up to the group, a gaggle of various people following much more slowly in the distance. "I didn't know that I'd be spectating a wizard's duel as part of my morning commute. How delightful! It's an undervalued sport in my opinion; doesn't get enough attention nowadays from all these younger folk who think that the noble sport of duelling is beneath them."

The man's baby blue eyes sparkled with delight and he seemed to be immune to the visible tension between the two sides as he immediately inserted himself into the middle of things.

At first glance the man was middle-aged. He had a bluff and craggy face with what looked to be an oft broken nose, and possessed an athletic frame that had gone to seed. Dressed in what looked to be a fancy pair of slacks, clogs, a beaner, and a Manchester United jersey, the man fit Harry's typical mental image of a wizard trying – and failing – at blending in with Muggles. Harry felt an instant dislike and distrust of the man.

After giving the two Malfoys an enthusiastic handshake which neither seemed eager to return, the stranger turned to face Harry and the others. A look of barely controlled excitement that was reminiscent of Lockhart came across his face.

"By Merlin's staff! You – you're – _you're__ Harry Potter!_" The man gave a gasp of surprise that was too exaggerated to be natural. "Please, Harry, forgive me for being late in my introduction. It is pleasure to meet you! A pleasure and an honour!"

Oh no. Harry knew what was coming next. He tried to back away, his wand falling to his side as he moved.

But much to his annoyance Harry was not fast enough to avoid the other man, who was apparently much quicker on his feet than he looked.

The man grabbed Harry's free hand and pumped it with gusto, his eyes radiating good cheer. "You did us _all_ a favour when you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That you did my boy, that you did. Why, if I'd had my way about it, you'd have received far more than that one measly little statue the Ministry had commissioned a few years back; there'd be statues of you and your parents all over the place, in every village and every major building, in order to commemorate the incredible service you provided to this great nation of ours."

Harry felt his mild dislike of the newcomer dissolve in an instant and be replaced by pure revulsion. There were few things in the world Harry liked less than hearing about his fame, or about how the wizarding world owed him some great debt. To have someone wax on about it to him at first meeting, in a manner that was anything but sincere, was revolting.

"But where are my manners? My name is Ludo, Ludo Bagman. In any case, I should have known that you'd be into duelling, Harry; Quidditch players, especially Seekers, often are, as it can help improve ones reflexes. And from what I hear tell you're pretty impressive at it." The man gave Harry a broad wink as he continued to shake Harry's hand. By this point Harry's shoulder was beginning to ache from the constant motion. "I was a professional beater myself so I understand. As Quidditch players its in our blood to be competitive. And the more competitive spirit you have, the better!"

When the man paused to take deep breath, Harry finally saw a chance to withdraw. He managed to yank his hand back and darted behind Remus, who was standing close to Harry.

"Um, well, I guess, sir," Harry spoke as he moved. "But I wouldn't really know for sure. I've only been learning how to duel recently, and what little I do know came from my godfather and a few others, like Professor Lupin next to me."

Ludo's already sparkling eyes kicked into overdrive at that comment. "But of course! I had almost forgotten that seeing you must mean that Sirius would be nearby!" The strange man turned on his heel and bounded over to where Sirius stood; from his expression, Sirius was looking forward to talking with Ludo with all the enthusiasm of someone who had just bitten into a sour grape. "Sirius my old friend, it's been ages since we've last seen one another! You simply must tell me how you are doing; I saw your face on last week's cover of Witch Weekly and I must say that you looked absolutely smashing!"

Sirius rolled his eyes and lowered his wand with an aggrieved sigh. "Hello, Ludo. It's a… a pleasure to see you again as well. But before I get into things, can you kindly tell me _what the hell you're doing here?_" He pointed to where Lucius stood with his wand only partially pointed at the ground. "_Can't you see that we were in the middle of something?_"

Ludo blinked as he looked around. The man's bluff face then fell as though he had finally realized what he had done by inserting himself into the middle of things. "Oh. Oh, dear! I did indeed make quite a mess of things, didn't I?"

Lucius Malfoy gave a snort of disdain at Ludo's belated observation. "I guess that's to be expected of you, Bagman. Without Bartemius here to cover for your mistakes, you're just a walking bag of hot air." Lucius turned to face Sirius. "We'll finish this later, Black. And just in case you try to squirm away, I declare there to be a formal challenge between the House of Malfoy and the House of Black."

Sirius gave the man a grim smile. "Sounds good to me, Malfoy. I'll accept under normal House rules; just name the time and place."

Harry blinked at the sudden return to hostilities. He was also somewhat confused. Had Lucius just challenged Sirius to the same sort of fight that Draco had challenged Harry to back in First Year?

"I was hoping you would say that," Lucius said quietly. A cruel smile spread across his face. "Then according to House rules, I declare the challenger to be my son, Draco."

**Ding!**

Harry did not even need to look at the notification to know what had the Game wanted to tell him. Instead, Harry chose to look over at the pale-haired ponce and smile.

Finally, a quest which would make him feel really, really, really good when he completed it. Oh how Harry looked forward to wiping the floor with the daft prick. He knew that his own stats were _leagues_ above where Draco's had been, and considering all of the progress Harry had made over the summer… well, Draco would need a miracle to happen in order to have surpassed Harry.

Sirius' eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at Lucius. "Do you think that I'm an idiot, Malfoy? If it were a simple one on one fight, then Harry could beat Draco in no time. But a duel under House Rules is different. I won't stand for you using some technicality to have him lose when he's _by far _the better wizard."

"Only in your dreams, _Black_." Lucius said with a disdainful snort. "Your lack of confidence in the boy is utterly apparent considering that you are already whining about losing. Besides, you have already accepted the challenge under House Rules, meaning that I am well within my rights to name Draco as my challenger. But if you wish to face the boy yourself, then go ahead. I am certain that defeating a child will do _wonders_ for your self-esteem."

Sirius fumed a the comment and looked like he wanted to argue some more. But Harry chose to step forward and grab Lucius' attention to himself. It seemed as if Sirius was still trying to be overprotective of him, and Harry did not want to let this chance to finally put Draco in his place slip away.

Harry gave the blond-haired man his best imitation of Dora's predatory grin before speaking. "Don't worry about it, Sirius. If I could take Voldemort down as a baby, then taking Draco down as a teenager won't even cause me to break a sweat."

Sirius looked down at Harry, his dark eyes flashing with concern as he opened his mouth to speak. But Lucius beat him to the punch.

"Excellent. Then I believe that my challenge has been accepted." Lucius's nostrils flared in anger at Harry's words as the man slammed his wand back into his cane. He then gave Sirius a crisp nod. "In accordance with tradition for a battle between minors, and with everyone here serving as witness, the duel shall be held between Harry and Draco two weeks from now at the duelling arena present at the World Cup. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Sirius said through clenched teeth.

"Then I look forward to seeing you lose." Without waiting for any further reply, Lucius then turned to face Draco and their two companions. "Let us leave this area. I believe that the Parkinsons previously extended an invitation for us to join them at their transport site, and I would find their company eminently more preferable to that which is present here."

The quartet of well-dressed wizards then moved off, the two unnamed men giving Harry and the rest disdainful stares of their own. But before they left, and just as Harry was trying to cast a stealthy Observe on the group, Draco had to try and get in one final word. Harry cursed in his mind as the chance to see their stats slipped away.

"Are you sure that you're man enough to face me in a proper wizard's duel, Potter?" Draco called out mockingly. "I've been working hard all summer; and unlike last time we duelled I won't be foolish enough to summon a snake that you can use your Parseltongue on."

Harry had a laugh at that. It was good to see that some things never changed, and that Draco Malfoy was still an overconfident fool.

"I'm sure that you've improved loads, Draco." Harry said in a mocking tone of his own. "But you've yet to win a match against me in Quidditch or anything else, and I don't see it happening anytime soon either. Besides; I believe in your _unparalleled_ ability to come up with new and improved ways to make yourself look like the world's biggest berk in front of a crowd. It's one of life's familiar constants, like gravity or Hermione's brilliance."

"Psh. The mudblood won't be able to save you this time, Potter. It'll just be you and me in the ring, no one else." Draco snapped.

This time the insult landed. No one called Hermione that name in front of him. No one. And free from Hogwart's restrictions against student duelling Harry felt no compunction to hold back.

His wand-hand darted upright, his lips already forming the words to a nasty jinx Dora had taught him the day before.

Only to find himself stopped.

Sirius had seen what Harry was about to do and had grabbed onto Harry's arm, the grown man's greater strength holding it immobile. Harry felt his face flush in rage as he struggled to free his arm from the man's grasp.

"Alright, Draco, that's enough for today," Sirius said in a stern tone of voice. "It's time for you to run along like a good little pureblood boy lest you end up forfeiting the duel before it even begins; I'm sure that your dear old daddy would _love_ to have you pile some nice, old fashioned dishonour on your House's name while my cousins continue to drag its reputation through the gutter press."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but a clipped command from his father caused the boy to reconsider. He settled for a venomous glare which Harry returned with zeal before Draco turned his back on them to rejoin his father. Then, one loud and sudden crack later, Draco and the others were gone.

Ludo gave a gentle cough into his fist and stepped forward to speak, but a harsh stare from Sirius closed the man's mouth. Instead, the man muttered something about finding the portkey and wandered off to search the ground nearby.

After taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Harry reached his free hand over to tap his godfather's arm. "I'm alright, Sirius. You can let go now."

Sirius removed his hand from Harry's arm and gave Harry a clap on the back. "I wouldn't expect anything less from the son of Lily Potter, kiddo. The moment I heard the little mongrel's insult I knew what was coming; your mother had quite the temper on her, and more than a few people who called her that word were taught to be wary of her wand."

Harry smiled at that. Still, Sirius' grim gaze belied his jocular tone as the man continued. "That being said, Harry, I promise that Remus and I will get you up to speed regarding duelling etiquette; losing the duel due to a technicality is a real possibility, and we wouldn't want that to happen now would we?"

Harry gave a shudder at the thought. Losing to Ginny on a technicality, in a pick up Quidditch game, had been rotten. But losing to Draco due to a technicality? Draco _Malfoy_ of all people? In a public duel?

No thank you!

Harry hated even the barest _thought_ of such an event happening. So whenever it was that Remus and Sirius began teaching him about duelling rules, or at least the House version of them Lucius and Sirius had mentioned, Harry sure as hell was going to learn them inside and out.

Continuing to take a few more deep breaths to calm himself, Harry took advantage of not having anyone other than Sirius or Remus nearby to look at the notification sent to him by the game. Sure as he had thought the notification signified a new quest.

**Quest Alert Notification**

**Beat the Brat**

**Your Godfather and Lucius Malfoy have Set a Duel Between You and Draco Malfoy**

**Defeat Draco to Pass the Quest**

**Quest Reward:**

**1 Level**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

The reward for the quest was rather small. The tiniest Harry had yet to see from a quest. But as Harry figured that beating Draco did not amount to much of a feat by _any_ definition of the word… well, he was not terribly surprised by its miniscule size.

He quickly selected yes before composing a quick message using the Game's Party feature. Then he sent it to both Sirius and Remus, with whom he had started a Party before they had left the Cottage, filling them in on the Game's latest quest. Both men jumped, undoubtedly from the unexpected noise generated from the sending of a message using the Game, but gave no other visible sign that Harry had done anything.

Neither was quite on his level when it came to manipulating the Game of Death, but they were getting better.

Ludo wandered back to where Harry stood shortly after Harry had sent the message. The man had apparently found the portkey in short order and now seemed unable to hold off from once again interjecting himself into the middle of things.

"That was smashing, Sirius, utterly smashing! Here I thought that I was going to have yet another boring commute into work, only to find myself bearing witness to an official challenge between two noble Houses. How exciting! Having you back in the wizarding world is like a breath of fresh air." Ludo Bagman's boisterous voice cut through the air as he slapped Sirius' shoulder. "You really must allow me to help oversee the event; with my help and support, young Harry here'll become an even bigger star than he already is!"

Sirius shrugged Ludo's hand off of his shoulder. "Enough, Ludo. I'll consider your offer, but I won't make any promises at this time." Sirius gave the man a grimace and made as if to turn away. "We might have to put up with all the publicity nonsense that comes with these sorts of events, but that doesn't mean we have to embrace it."

"Ah, of course, of course. I understand you completely, old boy. Your reaction is completely understandable. As my dear old mother used to say, there are no free lunches in this world. You have to work to get what you want." Ludo chuckled at his own statement, as if he had made some particularly funny comment. "By the by, did you know that I've become Head of the Department of Magical Games while you were away? Oh, and that I'll be the announcer for all of the big matches in this year's Cup? I'm sure that I can get you and Harry some special access at some point before the Cup comes to an end. Maybe even a backstage pass, or the chance to attend a team practice or two."

Sirius paused mid turn. He then exchanged a look with Remus, who stared back in guarded surprise. With no clue what they were discussing through looks alone, Harry hoped that they were both thinking what he was thinking.

As much as Harry might hate his fame and dislike those who approached him because of it, this _might_ be a time that it could be useful. In order to complete the quest to stop the attack on the World Quidditch Cup, Harry and the rest would need access to places that most people were restricted from going. They had figured to access them by using Harry's cloak – conveniently stored within his Inventory so as to bypass any magical inspections – but there was always a risk of being discovered.

Having Ludo offer up the possibility of giving them the access they needed, under the guise of doing them a favour, was too tempting an offer to ignore.

So when Sirius turned to look at him, Harry gave his godfather a quick nod. Sirius nodded back at him and then gave another nod towards Remus, who grabbed Harry by the arm and moved off as Sirius did the same with Bagman. The sandy-haired man allowed Sirius to move him, motioning for his companions to hang back as he began to speak with Sirius in a lowered tone of voice.

Harry looked up at Remus and raised an eyebrow as they walked. Years of dealing with the Dursleys had given him a basic working knowledge of how the discussion would go between Ludo and Sirius. "It's a weird feeling, Remus, knowing that Sirius is going to hawk me out in return for something. And that I've given him my permission to do so."

"Yes, I would imagine so," the werewolf responded dryly. "I know how much you dislike your fame, Harry. Being famous for the deaths of Lily and James is… well, atrocious. But something that you have to understand, and that you demonstrated with your action today, is that you cannot run away from it either." The professor used an arm to bump Harry's shoulder. "Just make sure that you never let it go to your head."

Harry gave a snort at the very thought. "As if that'd ever happen. And if it ever got close, well, I'm sure that Hermione would snap me out of it."

"Indeed. Ms. Granger is a wonderfully stabilizing influence on you, Harry. I quite look forward to seeing her once again."

"Me too." Harry blinked as he realized that it had been over a month since he had last seen her. "Do you think that she'll be able to make it to the Cup?"

Remus nodded. "Yes. I made sure to communicate with her parents by telephone yesterday; they decided to extend their holiday a little, but Hermione _will_ be able to attend the finals at the very least."

Harry smiled at that. He missed his best friend dearly and wished that she could be there to help him solve the Game's quest. There was no other person Harry trusted more when it came to going on an adventure and saving the lives of others, and having her by his side on this one would make him feel loads better.

Before Harry could say anything else a bright light had begun to pulsate from Remus' wand. The professor grabbed Harry by the shoulder and gently tugged him back towards Sirius. "That's the timer. The portkey should be activating soon. We'll need to get to the device and make sure to touch it so we don't get left behind."

It turned out the portkey was a broken cricket bat. As Sirius stood beside him, Ludo held the mangled piece of wood towards the group and motioned for everyone to touch it. Harry and the others crowded around, placing their hands on the magical device and waiting for it to activate.

Ten seconds later saw Harry discover what he hated about this particular type of magical travel when an invisible force hooked into his body. The hook settled somewhere behind his navel and jerked him upwards before he could mount any attempt to resist.

The last thought Harry had before a flash of light hit his eyes was that at least he would soon be somewhere where they had lots of brooms.

**A/N:** Hm. Could it be that I always had a reason… or two… or maybe more… in having Harry lose to Ginny by a technicality back in chapter 19?

Inconceivable! :p

Since we're finally heading to the World Quidditch Cup I'll take this opportunity to make a little announcement. As some of you have noticed and commented (for which I am utterly grateful), I have not been tearing through the days and weeks to get through Year 4. This is very much on purpose, because while I _will_ be speeding up the passage of time moving forward (getting in some Quidditch Cup action scenes and related goodies along the way), it is my intention to have Level 1 end shortly after the culmination of the World Quidditch Cup (for which I just finished drafting an outline of the final events). Level 2 will cover the events of Year 4 while Level 3 will cover the events of Year 5; so on and so forth until the plot reaches its eventual conclusion.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	25. A Gaming Glossary

**Author's Note: **If you are looking for the next chapter of this story, then please skip ahead. Thank you.

**Harry Potter and The Game of Death**

**A Gaming Glossary**

_Welcome to the Game of Death's Glossary! I've been trying to figure out the best way to display the stats and other related abilities for the Game of Death in my story for quite some time. After much back and forth over the various options I have decided to test out this format. Hopefully it helps make this story even more enjoyable for everyone out there who is kind enough to read it. Maybe it will even help out someone else who wants to write their own story too._

**Necessary Information ****for Reading****:** **1)** This glossary will be separated into several sections in the following order: General Information, Current Character Stats, and Revealed Traits and Titles. No other bits will be included at this time; I considered adding things like past character stats and quests, but doing so quickly turned this glossary into an unwieldy behemoth. It's long enough as is, and it will only grow longer with time. But should enough reviewers make a request I can see about adding new sections to this chapter in the future. **2)** This chapter will be updated with new information as time goes on; whenever a new chapter comes out in the future I would recommend that you refer back to this chapter. I will not be creating a new one. **3)** This glossary will only cover _'revealed'_ information. So if it is not explicitly included in one of the chapters, then it will not be shown here. I may make a mistake or two in this area (I _am_ only human) and if I do then enjoy the accidental peak behind the writing curtain ;-)

**Replies ****t****o Comments and PMs:** When it comes to this chapter I will break from my usual stance in regards to replying to both PMs and Signed Reviews. Which is to say that my general policy regarding them is to reply 90% or more of the time. So to all you silent readers and guest reviewers out there, if you ever have a question or concern or comment regarding this story, then I encourage you to create an account and speak up! I listen to what you have to say and I love to engage.

When it comes to _this_ chapter, however, I will generally not respond to reviews or PMs unless I deem it to be of high importance. I will instead let the chapter speak for itself and quietly address any issues or flaws it may possess at some point down the line.

_**Until Next Time,**_

_**~Elsil**_

* * *

**General Information**

Levels for Hogwarts Students:

_Normal Level Scale:_

Year 1: Level 10-15

Year 2: Level 15-20

Year 3: Level 20-25

Year 4: Level 25-40

Year 5: Level 40-55

Year 6: Level 55-70

Year 7: Level 70-100

Game of Death Main Menu

MENU

GAMER STATS PAGE

ACTIVE PARTY MEMBERS

KNOWLEDGE COMPENDIUM

INVENTORY

OBSERVE

HELP

Magic Mastery Index

A Constantly Updated Index Containing the Current Mastery Level of Individual Spells and Schools of Magic Known to Harry Potter

Astronomy: 6%

Care of Magical Creatures:

Charms: 15%

Dark Arts: 3%

Defence Against the Dark Arts: 17%

Divination: 0%

Herbology: 9%

Mental Arts: 6%

Potions: 9%

Transfiguration: 12%

Spell Mastery

_Patronus Spell_

Mastery Level: 99/100

Character Attributes and How They Function in the Game of Death

Like it is done in many games, a person or creature's attribute level correlates to their achievement in a particular area. Studious individuals are more likely to have high mental attributes (intelligence and wisdom) and athletic individuals are more likely to have high physical attributes (strength, dexterity, stamina). Individuals with powerful personalities are more likely to have a high charisma attribute than those with more shy or meek personalities.

However, it is important to note that these are not hard lines and there will be outliers.

Additionally, I would **HIGHLY** recommend that you do not look at this story from an MMO perspective. The Game of Death follows D&D and traditional old-school RPG Gaming (NWN, Dragon Age, Pillars of Eternity, etc…) guidelines far more than it does MMO related abilities or rules. But even then an understanding of the base rule sets I used when creating this story is only a beginning as the Game of Death is a heavily modified hybrid version of said rules.

Attributes can be affected by an individual's racial heritage. What this means is that attributes can vary _greatly_ between races, be it in terms of caps (soft and hard) or overall statistical levels.

Some races, such as Dementors and Giants, possess absurdly high stats in one or two attribute areas while their other areas are crippled. Other races, such as Humans and House Elves, are more balanced. They have the potential to succeed in multiple areas and are not 'locked' into specific paths of growth.

_Examples of How Racial Traits Affect Attributes:_

If a Giant and a Human with equal strength attributes were to engage in an arm wrestling contest, then the Human would have his arm torn off. Said arm would most likely be reduced to a gelatinous mass of viscous liquid that the Giant would wipe off on its trousers in disgust while the foolish Human screamed in pain.

If a Dragon were to have a super high charisma attribute, then said dragon would _not_ be able to gather a cult of human believers centered around it of its own volition. It would just be really, _really_ powerful.

A House Elf with a sky high intellect attribute would not necessarily be the next Albert Einstein or Alan Turing. They might instead be Tupac reborn or the second coming of Pablo Picasso.

_Now, on to the actual attributes themselves_

_Strength:_

Denotes a creature's physical strength. Affects only the physical attributes. Humans have a soft cap of 80, after which all gains give diminishing returns.

_Note:_ High strength does not necessarily translate into Herculean muscles. A person can be physically strong without being superhuman.

_Dexterity:_

Denotes how nimble a creature can be. Affects things like speed, agility, hand-eye coordination, and wand manipulation. Humans have a soft cap of 100, after which all gains give diminishing returns.

_Note:_ High dexterity does not necessarily translate into superhuman reflexes. Someone can have great reflexes but terrible fine motor control.

_Constitution:_

Denotes how much health and endurance a creature can possesses. Affects how much direct damage the person can take before being killed or rendered unconscious. Humans have a soft cap of 70, after which all gains give diminishing returns.

_Note:_ High constitution does not necessarily translate into the ability to survive a nuclear explosion or its magical equivalent. It can mean that a person has more padding (muscle or fat) on their bodies, bigger bones, a higher than average genetic resistance to disease, or something similar.

_Intelligence:_

Denotes the intelligence of a creature. Creatures with high intelligence find it easier to learn new abilities and/or magic spells. Humans have no cap on this attribute.

_Note:_ High intelligence does not necessarily translate into IQ score. A person possessing above average intellect with vast amounts of experience and learning will often have a higher intelligence score than a genius teenager.

_Wisdom:_

Denotes how intuitive a person can be. Characters with high wisdom make better logical deductions and regain spent magic faster. Humans have no cap on this attribute.

_Note:_ High wisdom does not necessarily translate into experience or intellect. A _wise_ character could be like Socrates, Gandalf, or Dobby.

_Charisma:_

Denotes how charismatic a character is. Characters with higher charisma have larger sources of magical power, can better resist outside forces, and possess an intuitive grasp over its usage. Humans have no cap on this attribute.

_Note: _High charisma does not necessarily translate into skilled magical abilities or experienced leadership. Both do tend to go hand in hand, but there are and will be exceptions to this rule.

_On Why Attributes are Conceived of Differently in this Story_

Last but not least, you might be asking yourself why I have changed the traditional bonuses related to the various attributes. Such as why intelligence is no longer the 'catch all' attribute for everything magical.

My reasons for doing this stem from the fact that HP is not a sword & sorcery universe like many fantasy settings. Such universes traditionally possess multiple character classes like warriors and clerics, have thus arranged the bonuses of their attribute tables to reflect this. In these worlds Warriors and Rangers need to be equal to Wizards and Sorcerers lest no one play them.

But since HP is a sorcery/science world, with a heavy emphasis on sorcery (sorry Muggles), then using a traditional attribute table would not fit the needs of the Game of Death. In this story Harry is not, nor will he ever be, Conan the Barbarian. Nor will he become Drizzt Do'Urden, Anomander Rake, Malus Darkblade, or Caramon Majere. Harry is a wizard and that shall be the path that he walks.

So with that in mind I redesigned the attribute table and all of its bonuses to best suit this viewpoint. Please refer back to my author notes in chapters 2 and 5 for additional information on how and why I did it.

* * *

**Current Character Stats**

**Active**

Harry Potter

Age: 13

The-Boy-Who-Lived

Heir Apparent to the Potter Family

Basilisk Slayer  
Heroic Child

Golden Boy

Level 53

Stats:

STR: 61

DEX: 78

CON: 59

INT: 142

WIS: 118

CHA: 373

Traits:

Loyal

Duellist

Survivor

Humble

Elf-Friend

Boy-Who-Lived

Half-Blood

School Quidditch Star

Possessor of a Deathly Hallow

Clutch Performer

Foe of the Dark

Battle Hardened

Dark Arts Magnet

A Mother's Protection

Weak Familiar Bond (Hedwig)

Peverell Bloodline

Walking Target

Oblivious One

Parseltongue

Headstrong

True Friend

Negotiator

Dedicated

Horcrux

Gamer

Hermione Granger

Age: 16 (Time Turner)

Brightest Witch of the Age

Golden Girl

Level 40

Stats:

STR: 20

DEX: 36

CON: 27

INT: 216

WIS: 177

CHA: 50

_Traits:_

Loyal

Bookworm

Muggleborn

Taskmistress

Perfectionist

Calculating

Kind Heart

True Friend

Dedicated

Ronald Weasley

Age: 14

Level 25

_Stats:_

STR: 27

DEX: 31

CON: 38

INT: 35

WIS: 11

CHA: 35

_Traits:_

Kind Heart

Oblivious One

Quidditch Fanatic

Amateur Quidditch Player

Boy-Who-Lived-Fanboy

Envious One

Large Family

Quidditch Fanatic

Clutch Performer

Chess Master

Headstrong

Pureblood

Gullible

Remus Lupin

Age: 33

DADA Professor

Werewolf

Marauder

Level 266

_Stats:_

STR: 89

DEX: 87

CON: 80

INT: 719

WIS: 436

CHA: 192

_Traits:_

Loyal

Survivor

Dedicated

Downtrodden

Former Prankster

Werewolf Form

Battle Hardened

Transfiguration Adept

Half-Blood

Penny Pincher

Charms Adept

Arithmancy Adept

Ancient Runes Adept

DADA Adept

Mental Arts Initiate

Renaissance Man

Educator

Hogwarts DADA Professor Curse

Oblivious One

Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley

Age: 13

Level 33

_Stats:_

STR: 51

DEX: 70

CON: 60

INT: 72

WIS: 49

CHA: 81

_Traits:_

Loyal

Survivor

Headstrong

Large Family

Only Daughter

True Friend

Clutch Performer

Boy-Who-Lived-Fangirl

Amateur Quidditch Player

Life Bonded to Harry Potter (One-sided)

Former Horcrux

Pureblood

Free Spirit

Dedicated

Draco Malfoy (Cursed)

Age: 14

Heir Apparent to the Malfoy Family

Level 44

Stats:

STR: 50

DEX: 68

CON: 62

INT: 130

WIS: 105

CHA: 265

Traits:

Envious One

Gullible

Gossipmonger

Dedicated

Pureblood

Fair Whether Friend

School Quidditch Player

Pureblood Supremacist

Sacrificium Virginali

Dark Arts Initiate

Blue Blood

Spoiled

Vain

Hedwig

Owl of Wisdom

Age: 5

Level 45

_Stats:_

STR: 28

DEX: 72

CON: 46

INT: 85

WIS: 119

CHA: 108

_Traits:_

Ruler of the Roost

Loyal

Dedicated

Headstrong

Weak Familiar Bond (Harry Potter)

Clutch Performer

Fred and George Weasley

Age: 16

Joke Kings

Brilliant Inventors

Level 65

Stats:

STR: 64

DEX: 60

CON: 57

INT: 180

WIS: 164

CHA: 245

Traits:

Loyal

Prankster

Dedicated

True Friend

Duelist

Large Family

School Quidditch Star

Twin Bond

Ambitious

Jazz and Funk Enthusiast

Free Spirit

Vincent Crabbe

Age: 14

Level 23

_Stats: _

STR: 32

DEX: 33

CON: 40

INT: 7

WIS: 1

CHA: 3

_Traits:_

Follower

Amateur Quidditch Player

Faint Heart

Dark Arts Initiate

Slothful One

Gregory Goyle

Age: 14

Level 23

_Stats: _

STR: 32

DEX: 33

CON: 40

INT: 7

WIS: 1

CHA: 3

_Traits:_

Follower

Amateur Quidditch Player

Faint Heart

Dark Arts Initiate

Slothful One

Cedric Diggory

Age: 17

Golden Boy

Hufflepuff Prefect

Heir Apparent to House Diggory

Level 76

_Stats:_

STR: 68

DEX: 70

CON: 62

INT: 90

WIS: 101

CHA: 160

_Traits:_

Humble

Loyal

True Friend

Kind Heart

Charms Adept

Blue Blood

Dedicated

Gullible

School Quidditch Player

Dementor

Level 999

Stats:

STR: 1

DEX: 1

CON: 1

INT: 1

WIS: 1

CHA: 5000

Traits:

Soul Sucker

Aura of Fear

Chosen of Death

High Spell Immunity

Complete Physical Immunity

Weakness to Positive Feelings

* * *

**Revealed Traits and Titles**

_See below for a list of all traits and titles thus far revealed to the readers. The list has been alphabetized to make it easier to find and locate them._

A Mother's Protection: This trait is unique to Harry Potter, and is a result of the sacrificial protective spell cast upon him by his mother the night of Voldemort's defeat. This trait gives a +50 percent chance to ignore the effects of any true Dark Magic spell, the ability to inflict instant damage to Lord Voldemort's body or soul through physical contact, and complete immunity to magical harm or detection while living with her sole remaining blood relative Petunia Dursley. This trait has weakened over time and will eventually disappear once Harry Potter reaches the age of his magical majority.

Adept: A Witch or Wizard bearing this trait have gone far on the path to mastering their chosen field of specialization. It gives a 50% increase in the speed of learning any spells or rituals in their area, +30 to both mental attributes, +20 to charisma, and +1000 reputation points with anyone who has mastered a school of magic. The attribute and reputation bonuses are only applied once; additional areas of Adept level only grant the increase in spell learning bonus. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Amateur/School Quidditch Player:The bearer of this trait knows how to play the game of Quidditch. They are able to play their chosen position(s) with a decent amount of competency. Gives a +5 to all physical stats, +1000 reputation points with Quidditch fans, and +2000 reputation points to anyone bearing the title Quidditch Fanatic. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Ambitious: A sapient creature with this trait has ambition embedded within their bones. They want to succeed and go far within at least one area of interest; they will not accept half-measures or feeble attempts. This person is driven and has a fire burning within. Gives an automatic +15 to both the intelligence and charisma attributes, -15 to the wisdom attribute, and -1000 reputation points with bearers of the Humble trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Aura of Fear:A Dementor has the ability to cause any living creature within a radius of fifty meters to feel fear. The degree to which a creature is affected generally depends on proximity to the Dementor. Sentient creatures can be further affected if they have suffered traumatic events. Sentient creatures that have performed Dark Magical rituals can lessen the Aura's effects or even gain total immunity to it. Those with higher levels of Charisma have been shown to be more resistant to its effects. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.

Auror: Anyone bearing this title is an active duty Auror. Automatically gives the same stats as Auror trained (attribute gains do not stack), access to secure facilities throughout Magical Britain, and access to special equipment and spells not available to the general public.

Auror Trained: Anyone bearing this trait has gone through, and passed, the necessary training to become an Auror. Gives an automatic +5 to all attribute stats, +1000 reputation with ordinary citizens, +5000 points with law enforcement individuals, and -50000 reputation with any follower of the Dark Arts. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Basilisk Slayer: You have achieved a feat for the ages. You have managed to kill a Basilisk in single combat. Gives an automatic +10 to intelligence, wisdom, and charisma, +5000 reputation points with ordinary citizens, +10000 reputation points with fanboys or fangirls, -2000 reputation points to animal rights activists.

Battle Hardened: Anyone bearing this trait has gone through a grueling series of life or death struggles and come out alive. Gives an automatic +5000 reputation points to anyone even vaguely aware of the person's situation, and an additional +5000 reputation points to anyone else who bears this trait or a related one.

Blue Blood: A person with this skill was raised among the social elite. They know how to move within the halls of power and were taught proper etiquette in their cradle. Gives an automatic +20 to the Charisma attribute and +1000 reputation points to Lords, Ladies, Heirs, and anyone who also bears the Blue Blood trait. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.

Bookworm: A person bearing this trait loves books. They love books more than they prize social interactions, excel in school and are often mocked for it. This gives +30 points to the mental attributes, -10 to the charisma attribute, +5000 reputation points with anyone who also bears the trait, and -20000 reputation points for anyone with the traits Jock, Gossipmonger, Propagandist, or Book Burner. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Boy-Who-Lived: A title unique to Harry Potter, gained as a result of his parent's sacrifice on the night of Voldemort's defeat. Gives automatic international name recognition, +100 to the Charisma attribute, +5000 reputation with an ordinary citizen born in the British Isles, +20000 reputation with anyone bearing the title fangirl or fanboy, -5000 reputation points to those with Dark sympathies, and -100000 reputation with any follower of Lord Voldemort.

Boy-Who-Lived-Fanboy/Fangirl: A fanboy/fangirl who is specifically obsessed with Harry Potter. This gives an automatic -1000 reputation points with Harry Potter in addition to the normal fanboy/fangirl modifiers. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Brightest Witch of the Age: A title bestowed upon the smartest and most gifted witch of the current Age. This can only be given to one witch every thousand years. This gives +30 to both mental attributes, +50% speed of learning any and all disciplines of magic, +50% speed to learning new skills, +5000 reputation points with anyone bearing the trait Educator or Unspeakable, +10000 reputation points with both the Dark Witch and the Shining Wizard, and -5000 reputation points to anyone with a trait of Jock, Gossipmonger, Fanboy, Fangirl, or Envious One. This title can change over time to reflect a witch's growth and interests.

Calculating: The bearer of this trait has learned to view life through the cold eyes of dispassionate rationality. They are capable of making the tough choices and planning for the long term. Gives an automatic +50 to both mental attributes, +1000 reputation to anyone with a rule abiding or law and order trait, and -1000 to anyone with a Free Spirit trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Chess Master: This person excels at chess and thinking on a tactical level. Gives an automatic +10 to both of the mental attributes, and +5000 reputation points with anyone who has a chess related trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Complete Physical Immunity: Any creature with this trait is immune to any and all physical skills or traits. It is impossible to hurt them with a purely physical attack. This trait cannot be lost or changed.

Clutch Performer: Any person with this trait performs best in the clutch. When the chips are down and things are at their worst is when the trait holder is at their best. They receive a temporary +30 to both mental attributes and the charisma attribute, and +20 to all physical attributes when the situation is at its worst.

Cursed: This person's mind has been temporarily affected by some sort of Dark Magic. They may no longer be in control of their own actions.

Dark Arts Initiate: People bearing this trait have dabbled in the Dark Arts. They know its dangers and its seduction, but have yet to travel far on its path. Gives no bonuses. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.

Dark Arts Magnet: Anyone who bears this trait is a magnet for the Dark Arts. Wherever they go, the shadow of the Dark Arts will hang over their lives. They can never escape from its grasp and will have it continually flung into their path. Increases by 50% the speed for learning either Defense Against the Dark Arts or Dark Arts spells and rituals. This trait cannot be changed or removed over time.

Dedicated: A sapient creature with this trait is focused succeeding in life. They will pursue their goals without stop, and possess the talent to achieve them. Gives an automatic +10 to all stats. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Downtrodden: A sapient creature with this trait has had bad things happen to them throughout their life, and it has begun to sap away at their will. They are more likely to become withdrawn, and will often look at anything good that happens in their life with a skeptical eye. Gives an automatic -20 to both of the mental attributes and charisma. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Duelist: A witch or wizard with this trait has been in more than one magical fight. They are usually limited to theory, practice duels, and controlled matches. Gives an automatic +10 to both mental attributes and +5 to the dexterity attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Educator: The bearer of this trait has devoted a large portion of their time, energy, and life to educating others. Gives an automatic +50% ability to help others learn spells or theory in the educator's chosen field of expertise, +1000 reputation points with any other who bears an Educator trait, and -1000 reputation points for anyone with the Ambitious trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Elf-Friend: A witch or wizard who bears this title has been acknowledged as a true friend by a House Elf. Whether it was through a benevolent act of kindness or a deed of great valor, any witch or wizard who bears this trait now has at least one House Else as a lifelong companion. Gives an automatic +2 to all physical attributes, and +2 to both mental attributes and Charisma for every House Elf affected, +1000 reputation points with any sapient creature other than humans, +5000 reputation points with other House Elves, +50000 reputation points with the elf or elves in question, and -1000 reputation points with any who hold the Pureblood Supremacist trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Envious One: The bearer of this trait suffers from one of the seven deadly sins, Envy. When a situation comes up where they are likely to be jealous of someone else they are prone to taking rash action. The target of the jealousy suffers -5000 reputation points for each action that triggers the bearers envy. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Faint Heart: This person gets scared easily and will crack quickly under the right pressure.

Fair Weather Friend:Anyone bearing this trait is a normal individual. When things are good with someone, they enjoy being with them. When things are going badly for someone, they would rather be elsewhere. Gives an automatic -1000 reputation point loss to anyone with the trait of True Friend, and a -2000 reputation point loss to anyone with the Loyal trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Familiar Bond: An uncommon bond which forms between a magical creature and a human. This bond ties the two together in ways that are not fully known. What is known is that both of the bonded receive a boost to their mental attributes depending on the strength of the bond between the two.

_Weak_. This designates a bond that is either in its infancy or one that has stagnated over time. It gives +20 to the charisma attribute, +10 to both mental stats, and +1 to all physical stats.

Foe of the Dark: The bearer of this trait is an enemy of any who follow the magical Dark Arts. They seek to stamp it out and remove it at any opportunity, and are forever targeted for elimination by any who follow the Dark Arts. Gives an automatic +50 to both mental attributes and the charisma attribute when fighting Dark Wizards, Witches, or Creatures. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Follower: A person with this trait follows the easiest path. They suck up to those in power and abandon those without it. +1 to all attributes.

Former Horcrux: Anything which bears this trait used to have a Horcrux attached to them. If the Horcux is destroyed it gives an automatic +1 to all stats; and the removal of any skills, traits or status affects gained from being a Horcrux. If the Horcrux is absorbed, the effects vary depending on the level, traits, and skills of the Horcrux's soul of origin.

Former Prankster: You were once the type of person who enjoyed playing jokes on others. As you have aged, though, other responsibilities have taken center stage for you. You still know how to have a good time, but are okay not being in the center of attention. Gives an automatic +40 to charm and +5000 reputation points with current or former pranksters. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.

Free Spirit: A person who bears this trait loves to be free. They enjoy open spaces, meeting new people, exploring new places, and encountering challenging situations. Gives an automatic +1 to all attributes, +1000 reputation with other people who share this trait, and -1000 reputation with people who possess a trait in opposition. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Gamer: A unique trait held by Harry Potter. It gives him the ability to see life and the world around him as though it were a muggle role playing game (RPG). While not perfect, it attempts to convert the personality traits, history, experiences, and knowledge of those in the world to easily understood gaming terms. Gives no further bonuses beyond the menu features built into the game.

Golden Boy/Girl:Any man or woman with this title is often held by others as an example of good behavior, model academics, and athletic talent. Whether they are truly worthy of emulation is another subject, but the truth of the matter is that many people think that they are worthy of it. Gives an automatic +30 to charisma, +10 to both mental stats, +1 to all physical stats, +1000 reputation with ordinary citizens, +2000 reputation with any law or rule abiding trait bearers, -1000 reputation with Prankster trait bearers, and -5000 reputation with all Dark Arts practitioners.

Gossipmonger: Any sapient creature bearing this trait loves to gossip. The moment they hear a juicy detail they have to share it with someone else. They eat up the rumor mill and join trends easily. Gives an automatic -10 to both mental attributes and charisma, and at least -1000 reputation points with anyone who bears a loyalty related trait.

Gullible: Anyone bearing this trait is easily fooled. It has reached the point where it is ingrained in their being. It gives an automatic -10000 reputation points to anyone with the traits Paranoia, Cold Heart, Ambitious, or Calculating. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Half-Blood: This person is of 'mixed' descent, which means that they have someone of Muggleborn descent within at least ten generations. Gives nothing. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Headstrong: Any sapient creature with this trait prefers actions over words. They will often leap into situations before thinking about the consequences, and will often throw caution to the wind. While often seen as take-charge, this trait can also cause them to commit mistakes that could have been avoided with careful planning. Gives an automatic +20 to the charisma attribute, -5 to both mental attributes, +1000 reputation points with ordinary citizens, and -1000 reputation points with anyone who has the Wary Personality or Paranoid traits.

Heir Apparent to House Diggory: A title denoting the current heir to the House of Diggory. One of the many minor magical Houses, it is of humble origins and size. This title gives the bearer limited access to all family vaults and limited access to all House Diggory properties. It also gives +2000 reputation with fellow nobles and increases the speed of ones ability to learn Charm and Transfiguration spells and skills.

Heir Apparent to the Malfoy Family: A title denoting the current heir to the magical line of the House of Malfoy. This title gives the bearer access to all Malfoy Family Vaults in Gringotts, the main Malfoy Manor, and the ability to sign legal documents pertaining to the House of Malfoy subject only to the approval of the current Lord or Lady Black. It also gives +5000 reputation points to Pureblood Supremacists, +2000 points to members of the Wizengamot or the British Ministry of Magic, +1000 points to fellow nobles, and increases the speed of ones ability to learn Dark Magic spells and rituals by 25%.

Heir Apparent to the Potter Family: A title denoting the current heir to the magical line of the House of Potter. This title gives the bearer access to the Potter Underage Trust Vault and all Potter Family Properties. It also gives +1000 reputation with Pureblood Sympathizer trait bearers, +2000 reputation with fellow nobles, and increases the speed of ones ability to learn Transfiguration and DADA spells by 50%.

Heroic Child: A rare title only given to children who meet strict requirements. They must have the Loyal, Humble, True Friend, and Survivor traits. They must also be aligned against anything Dark or Evil. Most importantly, they must have knowingly saved the lives of others at great risk to their own for little to no personal gain. Gives an automatic 15% boost to leveling any skill, +10 to the charisma attribute, +5 to both mental attributes, +1000 reputation points with ordinary citizens, +5000 reputation points with anyone who is a friend or family member of someone they have saved, +10000 reputation points with anyone they have saved, -1000 reputation points with anyone who bears a title related to the seven deadly sins, -5000 reputation points with anyone who is aligned with the Dark Arts.

High Spell Immunity: Any creature with this trait is immune to any and all magic skills or magical abilities. The only way to breach this trait is to have an intelligence or wisdom attribute that is higher than the creature's highest attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Hogwarts DADA Professor Curse: This trait is forcibly placed upon all who take on the position of Hogwarts DADA professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Decades ago a younger Lord Voldemort interviewed for the position; when Albus Dumbledore denied him, the scorned Dark Lord placed a curse on the position. The curse will not abide another to hold the position for more than one year of teaching, and will remove them by means both foul and banal in order to ensure that the curse continues to hold.

Horcrux: A creation of the foulest and most evil of Dark Magics. Anything which bears this trait has had a portion of a Dark Wizard or Witch's soul grafted onto them. It is most commonly placed upon inanimate objects, such as jewels, as doing so renders the soul both stable and inert. Creatures, especially sapient ones, are heavily affected and changed by this status. Gives a -10 to all stats, the possibility of obtaining or using skills possessed by the Dark Wizard or Witch, and runs the risk of personality contamination for any sapient creature which bears this title. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty but be warned. Its negative effects can also grow worse over time should the connection between the host and the foreign soul go unresolved or, in the worst case, strengthen.

Humble: Any sapient creature which bears this trait displays a degree of modesty and patience far beyond the norm. Gives +20 to the charisma attribute, +1000 reputation with ordinary citizens, +2000 reputation with anyone that bears the Loyalty, True Friend, or Kind Heart Traits, and -2000 to anyone who bears the Cold Heart, Betrayer, Gossipmonger, or Ambitious traits. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Kind Heart: Any person who bears this trait is, at the root of their being, a kind person. They want to help others without reward, and will gladly suffer the ridicule and scorn of others if they can help even one person. They can still do wrong, but are quick to feel guilty. Gives +1000 reputation points to ordinary citizens, +2000 reputation points to people who bear the same trait, and -10000 reputation points to people with the Cold Heart trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Large Family: Any person bearing this trait is a member of a large family. As such, they are more likely to excel in one area in order to make themselves stand out from their family members. Gives an automatic +10 to the attribute they prefer and +2000 reputation points with anyone who bears the same trait. This trait cannot be lost or changed.

Life Bonds: One of the rarest bonds of all. It is possible for this bond to be either one-sided or reciprocal. A Life Bond only forms under strict conditions. 1) A wizard or witch must owe a Life Debt to another wizard or witch, 2) the person who owes the Life Debt must love the other person from the bottom of their heart, 3) the person to whom the debt it owed must have feelings, latent or otherwise, for the person who owes the Life Debt, 4) both must be powerful or have great magical potential, and 5) the one who is owed the Life Debt must have accomplished a great feat of courage in the process of procuring the debt. Gives no bonus when the debt is one-sided, but when two-sided it will give both participants a +100 to the charisma attribute, +50 to both mental attributes, and +5 to all physical attributes. Replaces the Life Debt trait.

Loyal: Any person or creature which bears this trait is loyal by their very nature. They may not always commit to something, but when they do make a commitment it is very hard to sway or change their minds. This can be a double edged sword; committing to a good course of action will be rewarding to the individual, but should they commitment to a bad course of action they are likely to suffer for it. Gives an automatic +5000 reputation points to other people who share this trait, and -10000 points with people who bear Deception related traits. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Marauder: This title is different from the trait, which denotes a person who commits acts of violence on people and their property. The Marauders were a group of four schoolboys who played pranks together while they went on adventures. Gives an automatic +1 to all attributes, +5000 reputation points to anyone with the Prankster trait, and -1000 reputation points with people who bear rule abiding traits.

Mental Arts Initiate: A wizard or witch with this trait is skilled in the use of both Occlumency and Legilimens. They know the subject on a functional level and are capable of using it to minor effect. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Oblivious One:A witch or wizard who bears this title is both lucky and cursed beyond measure. They are surrounded by attractive members of the gender in which they are sexually interested that also happen to have an interest in them. However, they nearly always fail to pick up on the subtle clues, furtive glances, or outright flirtation that most humans understand to mean that someone is expressing a romantic interest. Makes the bearer of this trait unlikely to notice the romantic interest of those around him unless they are hit over the head and told in no uncertain terms about it. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Owl of Wisdom: This title is only bestowed upon the wisest of owls. Any owl with this title is among the smartest of its breed, often displaying a degree of intelligence bordering on sapience. Gives a +50 to the Wisdom attribute and +20 to the Intelligence and Charisma attributes.

Parseltongue: A witch or wizard with this trait has the ability to talk and command snakes. It is generally limited to simple commands due to their low intelligence. The higher the intelligence of the snake, the more complex the commands can become. Gives +10 to both mental attributes and charisma, +5000 reputation points with fellow parseltongue trait bearers, and -5000 reputation points with anyone who believes the ability to be Dark.

Penny Pincher: This person has had to take a budget and stretch it. Some might call them tightfisted, while others will bow down in awe of their skill. Gives an automatic +10 to both mental attributes, and -5 to the charisma attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Perfectionist: A person with this trait has a tendency to hyper focus on one or more particular areas, to the exclusion of all else. They are driven to excel, sometimes to the point where it can hurt them or those around them. Gives an automatic + 10 to the bearers attribute of focus, -5 to the attribute they least prefer, and -2000 reputation points with people who have the Free Spirit trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Peverell Bloodline: You are one of, if not the only, remaining member of the Peverell Bloodline. This bloodline has been linked to the ancient Tale of the Three Brothers as told in the story by Beetle the Bard, who himself was descended of this ancient house of powerful magi. Once one of the ruling families of the ancient magical world, the Peverell family suffered a catastrophic fall in power after the deaths of Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. This fall in grace also coincided with the beginning of the Roman Empire's decline, causing several scholars of ancient magical history to wonder if the two events were in any way linked to one another. This theory has not received much traction within the mainstream academic community.

Yet beware young descendant, for there is always a grain or more of truth to every story. Take heed of the lessons learned by the three brothers Peverell, and choose a different path lest ye suffer the same fate as they.

Prankster: A person with this trait is irrepressible, to the point that people often call them irresponsible. They love to joke and have fun, and will play pranks on those around them. Gives an automatic +35 to charm, +5000 reputation points with other pranksters, and -5000 reputation points with those who dislike pranks or rule breaking. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Prefect: A title given to a total of six students in every Hogwarts House, with 2 selected from each year ranging from fifth to seventh. Prefects are responsible for maintaining order with and providing guidance to their fellow students whenever a teacher is either not present or has decided to delegate a task to them. Gives automatic access to the Hogwarts Prefect Bathrooms and study area, +1000 reputation with any rule abiding trait bearer, and -1000 reputation with Pranksters.

Professor: You have made a choice to help the next generation learn the skills they will need in order to be successful in life. The pay may not be the greatest, and the hours suck, but you will have a greater effect on the world than many others. Gives an automatic +50 to the individual's preferred attribute.

Pureblood: This person is of 'pureblood' magical descent, meaning that their ancestry contains no muggles or muggleborn for the five prior generations. Gives an automatic +10000 reputation points to those who believe in Pureblood Supremacy or an automatic -2000 reputation points if the person with this trait publicly disagrees with Pureblood Supremacy. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.

Quidditch Fanatic: A person with this trait would choose to eat, sleep, and breath Quidditch if they had a choice. Their love for the sport transcends common sense and it is rarely far from their mind. This gives +2000 reputation points with Quidditch players and fellow bearers of the same trait. Can be removed or changed over time.

Sacrificium Virginali: A ritual of Dark Magic intended to benefit males, it is a surpassingly rare ritual due to its strict requires. It can only be done in one's youth and requires a young virgin girl of near or equal age to willingly sacrifice her future for the sake of the male. It must be performed by a witch steeped in Dark Magic.

One the ritual is completed the virginal sacrifice will suffer immediate consequences. Their health will deteriorate, their future growth in magic slowed, and their lifespan cut in half. They are also forever tied to the one they have given themselves to as a slave.

The male will gain immediate benefits. Their overall power will see an immediate rise, their future growth in magic will be increased and they will gain an increased lifespan.

Pansy Parkinson has sacrificed herself for Draco Malfoy, who receives a +20 boost in level, +25 to all physical attributes, and +100 to both mental attributes, and +200 to the charisma attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

School Quidditch Star: The bearer of this trait is more than just talented at the game of Quidditch. They are able to dominate their position at the designated level and have the potential to go even higher. Gives a +10 to all physical attributes and the charisma attribute, +2000 reputation points with Quidditch fans, and +5000 reputation points to anyone bearing the title Quidditch Fanatic. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Slothful One: The bearer of this trait suffers from one of the seven deadly sins, sloth. They are less likely to apply themselves than those around them, and are incapable of holding deep or complex conversations. Gives an automatic -10 to both mental attributes. The amount deducted grows in proportion to the trait holder's level.

Soul Sucker: A Dementor has the ability to devour the soul of any sapient creature. Once started, this ability can neither be resisted nor stopped by anything known to wizardkind. Any sapient creature which has had its soul sucked out by a Dementor will forever be trapped in Limbo, as their souls will never know peace so long as the Dementor exists. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Survivor: A person with this trait has survived an event or events which would have broken an ordinary person. Even if they appear to be physically sound, the trials they faced have left their mark within. Gives a permanent +20 attribute bonus to the attributes used by the individual during their trial, +1000 reputation with ordinary citizens, and +5000 reputation with anyone considered to be friend or family. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Taskmistress: A person with this trait is a lover of rules. They enjoy following rules, making rules, and helping other people to follow to follow rules. Gives an automatic +5 to intelligence, +2000 reputation points for people who bear similar traits, and -2000 reputation points for people who bear opposing traits. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

True Friend: Anyone bearing this trait is more than just loyal to their friends. This person will go through thick and thin for anyone they regard as a friend. No matter the odds or rewards, anyone with this title will be impossibly loyal. Gives an automatic +5000 reputation with anyone else who bears this trait, +50000 for anyone who they count as a friend, and -50000 for anyone who does not value friendships such as someone with the Cold Heart trait. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Twin Bond: Any person with this trait has a twin and shares an exceptionally close bond with them. They can finish each others sentences, speak without words, and know what the other is feeling at a glance. Gives +50% speed to learning any skill or spell that the other twin possesses or is interested in learning. This trait can only be removed with the death of a twin.

Vain: A person bearing this trait likes to look good. They will spend an unnecessary amount of time making sure that they look good before appearing in public, and hate it when someone or something ruins their appearance. Gives an automatic +10 to charisma, -10 to both mental attributes, -2000 reputation to anyone without the vain trait, and +5000 reputation to anyone with the fanboy or fangirl traits. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty.

Walking Target: Anyone in possession of this trait has been marked by a higher power. Powerful opponents will desire to seek them out, and their lives are generally short once this trait has been gained. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Weakness to Positive Feelings: A Dementor is naturally weak to one thing and one thing alone: Positive Feelings. They tend to avoid areas and locations populated by groups of positive feelings. The Patronus Charm, which is the crystallized essence of happiness, takes advantage of this weakness. The spell radiates an amplified field of happiness that cannot be overcome by a Dementor's Aura of Fear or Spell Resistance, as a corporeal Patronus is neither a living creature nor a spell cast directly upon the Dementor. This trait can be removed or changed over time.

Werewolf**:** A witch or wizard who bears this title has been cursed with Lycanthropy. A snarling, slavering monster will forever dwell within their body. And come every full moon, the affected person will lose all sense of reason and transform into the beast within. Gives an automatic increased sense of smell and sight when not transformed, a heightened desire to consume meat, +5 to all physical attributes, -1000 relationship points with anyone who bears the Pureblood Sympathizer or Creature Phobia traits, and -10000 relationship points with anyone who bears the Pureblood Supremacist or Creature Hater traits.

Werewolf Form: When a witch or wizard afflicted by Lycanthropy transforms, they turn into a creature that is a cross between a man and a wolf. They cannot use magic while trapped in this form, but gain a massive boost to their physical attributes. Gain an automatic +200 to all physical attributes, the trait Lesser Magic Immunity, and the ability to infect other humans with Lycanthropy as long as the transformation is active. This trait cannot be removed or changed over time.


	26. Chapter 25: A Suspicious Deal

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: A Suspicious Deal**

**Ding!**

**You Have Been Transported to a Special Area**

**Welcome to the Ministry Managed World Quidditch Cup**

**Current Location: Public Zone**

**Ding!**

**Spell and Rune Wards Detected**

**Active:**

**Anti-Apparation Ward**

**Anti-Floo Ward**

**Muggle-Repelling Ward**

**Basic Surveillance Ward**

**Inactive:**

**Anti-Portkey Ward**

**Lockdown Ward**

**Spell Detection Wards**

**Tracking Wards**

Harry groaned as he pulled himself up from the ground. His head ached where it had clipped a stone while his wrists were scraped and sore from where he had tried – and failed – to catch his body from falling; the Game's notification coming in the midst of everything had not helped, especially when it only told Harry information that Remus and Sirius had given him before they had left the Cottage.

It was official; travelling by portkey was the worst type of magical transportation he had yet to encounter. And as usual, he was the only one who had suffered the bad effects.

All around him the various wizards and witches who had accompanied Ludo Bagman were giving him strange looks. Harry figured that they, who were used to having their feet materialize nearly a foot off the ground, were not expecting the oh so great Boy-Who-Lived, saviour of Magical Britain, to be a bumbling fool when it came to magical travel.

If so, then maybe something good would come of this stupid little incident.

As Remus checked Harry over to make sure that he was alright, Harry noticed Ludo give Sirius a friendly wave before moving away to hand the used portkey to a fellow ministry wizard. Looking harried and overworked, the stationary wizard just tossed it into a small pile of ratty looking objects before hurrying over to another group that had just arrived. Constant flashes of light heralded group after group as witches and wizards of all stripes began to appear in the designated port-key area.

Seeing an opportunity to gather some information, Harry took advantage of Remus' concealing form to cast several observes. He managed to catch some of Ludo's followers as well as several of the people around him before the press of human flesh made it dangerous to continue using the ability. Harry minimized the Game's notifications as Sirius came over.

"Alright boys, here's what's going on," Sirius said softly. "Good ol' Ludo, ever eager to get his face and name into the public consciousness, has agreed to get the three of us backstage V.I.P. passes for the remainder of the Cup. I'll tell you more about them later, but the highlights are that the passes will let us go everywhere except the security stations and individual team facilities; to get into those places we'll need to be invited or have an official escort."

The dark-haired man then shot Harry a sombre look. "In return, Harry, you'll need to put up with him every once in awhile. I don't think that he'll ask for much, but my guess is that the man will at least stick by your side on both the day of the duel _and_ the Cup's finale."

Harry sighed. He had figured that something like this would happen, but just because he had allowed it to go on did not mean he needed to enjoy it. "Should I be worried at all? The man seems unreliable at best and madder than a hatter at worst."

His godfather's serious face lit up at Harry's words. "Ha! Nice one, kiddo. I'll have to remember that for later. But the answer is no, you won't need to worry about Ludo. The guy is a former Quidditch star, a beater, who happens to enjoy being in the spotlight a little too much; we met a few times at some of the wilder parties I went to back when I was young and he doesn't seem to have changed much since."

Sirius made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Stroke the man's ego even a little and he'll treat you like his best friend. Just don't count on him to be of any use if the going gets tough; he'll crumble like a wet biscuit under the slightest of pressure."

Harry nodded. That fit with what he had observed of the man in the short time since they had met. But it was good to know that Sirius agreed with Harry's instinctive distrust of Ludo Bagman and had the facts to back it up.

"In any case I'll need to follow him so that we can get the passes. The sooner we get them the better." Sirius then gave a grimace. "Unfortunately, this means we'll need to split up earlier than we had planned. So long as Harry's Party system is in play we should be able to communicate no matter where we go… but just in case it doesn't work, Harry, be sure shoot off your Patronus should you ever get into any danger. We've taught you well, but you're still no match for the average Death Eater."

Harry gave a snort. If Voldemort's Death Eater's could go toe to toe with a trainee Auror like Dora, who managed to smack Harry's bottom around seemingly at will in practice, then to say that Harry was not yet able to face such an opponent at this time was a massive understatement. Even if Harry personally felt that Sirius and the rest had exaggerated the skills of the Death Eaters in an attempt to frighten him off.

After Sirius handed their tickets over to Remus and exchanged a few quick words with the other man Harry's godfather was soon gone.

Remus looked at Harry and raised a questioning eyebrow. "So Harry, do you want to start by wandering around the grounds while I head over to the private booths?"

"Yep. Let's stick to the plan. I'll meet back up with you at the agreed time." An hour past noon should give Harry plenty of time to wander around and cast Observe on things of interest. "I'll be sure to let you or Sirius know if I run into any trouble."

Remus gave a quick nod of his head. Then he too left the portkey area, disappearing into the rapidly growing crowd of bizarrely dressed witches and wizards making their way towards the giant stadium off in the distance.

With his absence Harry found himself on his own. Truly on his own for the first time in well over a month. And it felt… odd. Almost unwelcome.

But unlike how his life used to be, Harry knew that he could go and find one of the two older men should something actually happen. Unlike in the past, Harry now had adults in his life that he could count on. So he pushed down the odd feeling in his chest and concentrated on the task at hand, grateful that the massive amount of foreign witches and wizards meant that he was likely to go unrecognised.

* * *

Sirius cursed whatever divine entity had currently taken an interest in his life. Whomever or whatever it was, said entity had apparently cursed him to experience a run of truly foul luck.

Thus far his day had consisted of an argument with Harry, an encounter with the Malfoy's and the less than stellar company of Ludo Bagman. Yet none of it had prepared him for the truly awful development currently staring him straight in the face.

But could anything truly prepare a man to face the horror of a woman on the prowl? Sirius had no answer to that loaded question, although he desperately wished he did as he furtively glanced around for an escape point while a blonde nightmare stalked his way. Ludo had taken one look at her, handed Sirius the passes and then darted away faster than a Thestral on the wing. Once again proving that the man was less reliable than a dirty sock with a hole in it.

"Ah, Sirius, darling! It's a _pleasure_ to see you again now that you are a free man," Rita Skeeter purred as she advanced towards him. The woman's overly applied lipstick, gaudy glasses, and gauche handbag were just as terrible as Sirius remembered. She did not have the right skin tone for that blouse and skirt combination of green and red either. "Do you have a moment to have a chat with me regarding your terrible treatment at the hands of the ministry? I'd love to have a private _spill all_ conversation with you. I've only gotten better at my one on one… interviews since we last met, my dear."

Sirius felt both his eyes involuntarily twitch at her words. Especially at the pause just before she said the word 'interview'. He felt the need to back away from the carnivorous woman standing in front of him, but knew that showing any weakness in front of her would end with his being devoured. And while he could think of far worse fates and creatures to be devoured by – such as the Dementors – one drunken night after a party twelve years ago had already given Sirius all the information he needed when it came to having another 'spill all' conversation with the woman standing before him.

"Now now, Rita, I've already said my piece to the Prophet and others multiple times. We'd just be going over well trodden ground by this time, and I remember how much you dislike going over well-trodden ground," Sirius said with a forced grin. One of the few things the Black Family had taught their scions that had actually stuck with him was how to turn on the charm, and right now Sirius felt as though he were in need of every bit he could summon. "A stunning woman such as yourself would rather go after fresher bits, right? How 'bout I bring my friend Remus over and you can chat with him instead?"

Unfortunately, Sirius' legendary charm failed him. Rita gave his reply a disdainful sniff and a severe cutting motion that nearly took out a passing Ministry employee.

"I've met Mr. Lupin before for a previous piece, Sirius, and I am _far_ more interested in you. Don't try to talk your way out of this, darling. You should remember just how _forceful_ I can be when I want to place my hands on the _juicy_ bits of a story."

_Dear__ God in Heaven, __please__ no!_

Not usually a devout man of any sort, Sirius' hackles raised fully at the woman's blatant forwardness. Desperate to escape, he looked around and saw nothing that would be of any assistance. There were two pretty young witches talking to one another a few feet away, but they seemed more interested in pouring over a moving picture of the young Bulgarian Seeker than in helping Sirius. Meanwhile the only wizard in sight, one of Ludo's hanger ons, ducked his head into a nearby security station, the man's glassy eyed stare making it unlikely that the man either knew or cared about Sirius' situation.

Left with no other recourse, Sirius finally gave in and retreated a step to buy himself time to think. And just as he had previously feared the action was taken as a sign of weakness. Rita's full red lips pressed together in a vicious grin and in short order Sirius found his back pressed against the corridor wall as the buxom woman raised a long-nailed hand towards his face.

Frantic and not thinking clearly, Sirius blurted out the first thing that came to his mind which might possibly distract the woman from dragging him off to the nearest broom closet. He wanted his first sexual experience post Azkaban to be with a tall and well stacked hottie. Not with the moderately attractive shrew who stood before him.

"Well, Rita, as much as I would, uh, love to renew our acquaintance, I might have a lead for you on a different story," Sirius said with a gulp. "From what I hear tell, you're currently pursuing information on my cousin's divorce from little ol' Lucy, right?"

Rita's eyes flashed at the statement. The woman's rising hand came to a halt and her predatory stare changed. No longer was it that of a cat stalking a rabbit in an open field. Now it was that of an Acromantula stalking a Centaur in the forest. One that was currently wondering which part of the Centaur it should rip off first before its screams alerted the rest of the herd.

This rather poor development caused Sirius to silently curse yet again. Not only had his words angered the woman in front of him, but he had not been supposed to mention that little titbit in public; nor in front of the woman to whom he had just uttered it. A fact which had escaped his panicked brain while the words were blurting out of his mouth.

"I see that your relationship with the new chairwoman is as strong as I had heard." Rita's deceptively soft green eyes smouldered as she adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses. "I was indeed thinking about writing a story on that very subject. But I… _dislike_… being led to a story by anyone other than sources I select, Sirius, and now find myself wondering if I shouldn't pursue something else instead. Such as an autobiographical piece on our nation's favourite child hero."

"Whoa! Uh, I don't think that that would be a good idea, Rita. I'm sure that you know not to bring Harry into this," Sirius said with a grimace. This is why he hated dealing with Rita. While she was easily dealt with if you were prepared to face her, the woman was a master at ambushing people when and where they were most vulnerable. She would have been a shoe-in for Slytherin had she gone to Hogwarts. "Besides, you remember the lead that I mentioned? Well, I ran into little Lucy and his brat just before coming here, and a whole bunch of stuff happened between us that you would probably be _really_ interested in learning. I swear!"

Rita stared into his eyes for a long moment, an inscrutable look on her face as she seemed to consider his words. Sirius felt a drop of sweat drip down his neck. He hoped that she found his offer tempting enough to sidestep her more carnal desires, as well as to put aside her threat to cover his godson in one of her gossip laden stories. While Andromeda would be able to block her from using it in her column at the Prophet, Rita was a guest contributor at other publications which might not do the same.

"Very well, darling. I suppose that I can spare the time to go over it with you if you're willing to speak on record." Rita's hand darted into her putrid green handbag to retrieve an acid green quill. Sirius let himself breath a sigh of relief at the sight, only to silently curse yet again at her next words. "But I'll only promise to lay off from pursuing that piece about your godson if I get that _private_ interview we were talking about before. Got it?"

Ridden with indecision, Sirius raised his head and looked at the ceiling. Not for the first time, he dearly wished that James and Lily were still alive. Because sacrificing his body for the sake of his godson had _not_ been listed among the possible duties expected of their child's godfather.

Damn that deity for cursing him with such terrible luck!

* * *

One hour after he had separated from the others found Harry feeling quite frustrated.

The mission to stop the attack on the World Cup had been a bust thus far. Through the use of Observe, Harry had found so many dangerous things present that he had nearly broken into a cold sweat. Amongst other things, never had Harry dreamed that he would see someone openly waving a millennia old sacrificial dagger – confirmed by Observe – in the street whilst asking who was willing to give their lives to guarantee the win of their chosen team. The man had thankfully been stunned and taken away by a pair of Ministry Aurors just as he had begun leading one interested fan away from the public area.

After that experience, and seeing various other Ministry wizards darting about as they confiscated dangerous goods left and right, Harry turned his focus away from objects and towards observing the people around him. Doing so garnered immediate results, as it seemed that he was finally a high enough level to use Observe on most of the adults around him!

Harry celebrated by casting a wide net to get as much information as possible.

**Lisa Atkins:**

_**A working woman who is mother to six children, Lisa is a seventh generation Londoner. Upon finishing her primary magical education at Grimwart's School of Magic, she landed her dream job at Madam Malkin's store in Diagon Alley. Her favourite thing to do is to read the latest Quidditch News while sipping a steaming cup of tea.**_

**Age: 45**

**Level 124**

**Stats:  
STR: 43**

**DEX: 74**

**CON: 54**

**INT: 154**

**WIS: 112**

**CHA: 89**

**Traits:**

**Normal Citizen**

**Prude**

**Quidditch Fan**

**Vasile Bobrov:**

_**A Russian born wizard, Vasile's parents were both muggleborn survivors of a Communist purge. Russian wizards found him at an orphanage and, upon seeing him use magic, enrolled him at a now deceased school for wizards and witches. He is a brewer by trade.**_

**Age: 57**

**Level 149**

**Stats:  
STR: 52**

**DEX: 65**

**CON: 64**

**INT: 264**

**WIS: 137**

**CHA: 119**

**Traits:**

**Normal Citizen**

**Follower**

**Quidditch Fan**

**Akiki Rwamirama:**

_**A man of mixed tribal descent, Akiki works for an international trading group. He often poses as a Muggle shipping employee, and is experienced in their practices. He favours muggle fashion over that of magical.**_

**Age: 36**

**Level 115**

**Stats:  
STR: 65 **

**DEX: 74**

**CON: 44**

**INT: 189**

**WIS: 105**

**CHA: 108**

**Traits:**

**Normal Citizen**

**Overbearing**

**Quidditch Fan**

**Andre Lavoie:**

**Andre thinks that he is God's gift to women. The fact that he rather good-looking and easy on the eyes helps him, but it's his smooth talking that truly sets the hearts of women aflutter. He prefers older ladies and seeks to marry a rich dowager and have a bevy of mistresses by the time he is thirty. **

**Age: 25**

**Level 108**

**Stats:  
STR: 58**

**DEX: 73**

**CON: 57**

**INT: 120**

**WIS: 93**

**CHA: 139**

**Traits:**

**Normal Citizen**

**Don Juan**

**Quidditch Fan**

After what felt like the thousandth ding, and with a seemingly endless parade of new wizards and witches flowing in from the portkey areas, Harry sat himself down on a small bench located at the edge of the nearby forest and proceeded to go through what he had gathered. He found nothing of importance regarding the quest, but the stat pages were interesting nonetheless.

From what Harry could see, both he and Hermione were heads and shoulders above most other people in terms of their stats, traits, and titles. Just like the students at Hogwarts, most of the adults Harry had observed only had a few traits like the rather generically named 'Normal Citizen' and 'Quidditch Fan' traits.

Overall it was interesting but not helpful in regards to completing the quest given to him by the Game.

Once Harry had finished reading through and saving the stat pages for later recording – he knew that Hermione would love to get her hands on the data – he stretched his shoulders to get the stiffness out of them. Then, feeling the call of nature, he chose to duck behind a nearby group of bushes in order to relieve himself.

The lines in front of the public loos had been ludicrous and there was no way Harry would subject himself to them if there was another alternative.

Yet just after he had unzipped his trousers and had begun to pee, Harry had heard two voices coming from behind him. Neither had sounded familiar, so he had at first ignored them and gone about his business. Then one of them had mentioned his family name, causing Harry's ears to perk to attention.

"Damn the Potter brat and Black for getting in the way this morning," the first man muttered. "They nearly ruined everything!"

"Mayhap, Morgan, but don't forget that we've still got a job to do." The second man had a lower voice than the first one. "The morning's unplanned event just made it harder. Malfoy -"

The first voice cut in. "You mean _Lord_ Malfoy, right?"

A snigger followed that line, presumably from the second man.

His curiosity aroused, Harry finished his business as fast as he could. When done he zipped up his trousers and tried to creep closer.

"No, Morgan. I _don't_ mean that. Lucius may be noble-born, but the man is certainly no Lord of mine or any other. That was his father, Abraxus, and from what I know neither his son nor grandson has been able to earn the title since the man passed away. A title seems to be the one thing his gold cannot buy." A pause. "Well, that and a loyal wife, but Narcissa always _was_ the brains of the operation."

A second, higher pitched snigger followed as the first man laughed, shortly followed by the second man. It took a few seconds before the laughter stopped and the two men resumed speaking.

"Anyway," continued the second man with the deeper voice, "Malfoy really won't be happy with us if we fail him and he _does_ have us by throat. So keep tight to me as we walk; the git was able to influence the patrol schedule enough to open up this window and we'd best keep to it. We don't want any mishaps to happen because we were tardy."

The first man gave a sympathetic groan. "Silencing witnesses can be a real pain sometimes, and if it caused us to miss the rendezvous we'd be right screwed, so we would."

Apparently finished with their talk, the two men began to walk away at a quick march. Their footsteps began to fade off into the distance as they moved away from the stadium.

All of which allowed Harry to spring into motion.

Using the Party feature Harry sent a pair of messages racing off to Remus and Sirius informing them that he had located two suspicious individuals and was in pursuit. Then he activated his Inventory, pulled out his father's invisibility cloak, and swept it over his shoulders. After closing his Inventory and making sure that the Cloak was fully covering him, Harry then took off as fast as he dared and began to tail the two men through the woods. Remus and Sirius both messaged Harry back almost instantly, but he was unable to respond and minimized their notifications.

After checking to make sure that the cloak was covering every part of his body, Harry moved in the direction the two men had gone as quickly as he could.

* * *

The path the two men took was a winding, meandering one. The two men seemed to be rather paranoid about being followed; every few minutes they would veer off to the side or double back on their trail, making it hard to know exactly where they were headed. All Harry could tell for sure was that they were headed far away from the stadium and that they had yet to leave the stadium's wards. He felt certain that the Game would have notified him otherwise.

More than once along the way Harry had been forced to swiftly dodge behind a rock or tree so as to avoid running face first into one of the men. And as the sounds of the Quidditch celebrations faded further into the background, the undergrowth began to grow thicker. Dried leaves and broken sticks littered the floor, making it increasingly more difficult for Harry to move quietly.

After what felt like an hour had passed, the man in the lead came to a sudden stop. He whipped around and then thrust his wand directly at Harry's location. "_Homenum Revelio!_"

Harry felt his heart lurch against his ribcage as his feet ground to a halt. Not daring even to breath, he stayed as still as was humanly possible. He had tested the cloak and found that it blocked against certain spells and abilities, like the Game's Observe, but had no idea whether that spell was amongst those it could shield against.

The man cocked his head back. A child's mask, of the sort that one could get at a number of merchant booths back at the Stadium, covered his face. Several seconds of no further action on his part passed before he turned to his companion.

"No one's there. Sorry for the scare, Morgan. It must've been some stupid animal that I heard."

The other man waved a hand in acceptance, a similar mask to that of his companion covering his own face. "It's been awhile since we've done something like this ourselves, Yaxley, and we're both a little rusty. But I don't want to end up in Azakaban anytime soon so keep your eyes peeled just in case."

The two men then resumed their walk. It was only after they had proceeded a short distance away did Harry let loose the breath he had been holding.

That had been close. Too close. And though he did not know why their spell did not work, Harry bet that it had something to do with his dad's cloak; for what was probably the umpteenth time he thanked his dad for getting it in the first place and Dumbledore for returning it to Harry several years ago.

The rest of the walk was uneventful as Harry made sure to be more careful in his pursuit. Eventually the two men came to a stop and proceeded to wait. Harry took up a position nearby and sat down on the exposed roots of a large tree.

He itched to cast Observe on the two men, but the cloak's mysterious property to block spells and abilities also applied to Harry while he was under it. Without dropping the cloak or poking the tip of his wand beyond its protection there was no way to use the Game's ability, and after his earlier close call Harry did not want to take the risk.

After several minutes of silent waiting, the steady crunch of footsteps heralded the arrival of someone else. The two men Harry had followed into the woods tensed and pointed their wands in the direction of the noise.

A third man wearing a child's mask stepped into view. In stark contrast to the fancy robes worn by the two men Harry had followed, this new person wore a mishmash of apparel cobbled together from the Quidditch teams of multiple countries. It served to conceal his build, and when he spoke it was in a voice that sounded magically altered. The closest thing Harry could compare it to was like when a victim or witness spoke on the telly and used a voice synthesizer to protect their anonymity.

"Let's keep things short; I don't much time remaining before my disappearance might arouse suspicion. Do I have your promise to help change the outcome of the matches?"

Man number one, Morgan, nodded. "I won't comment on what methods we will use, but they will remain untraceable and impossible to connect back to either of us."

The third man was not satisfied. "And what happens if your methods fail?"

"Then we will pay you, handsomely, for your assistance. As was previously agreed."

"And how can I trust you to hold true to your word?"

"Because," Yaxley said in a sneering tone, "we are all upstanding gentlemen here who have given our words of honour. That, and if we fail to come through with things on our end, a bag of gold for the sum of 50,000 galleons will appear in the previous drop spot the night before your assistance is required."

The third man cocked his head as though he were thinking about things. He then slowly nodded his head and tossed something to Morgan. "Then I agree. That portkey will take you to the room you requested. It will _only_ activate on the day you requested, and _only_ when three or more people touch it at once. I can also cancel it should you not hold up your end of the bargain. Is this acceptable?"

Both Yaxley and Morgan assented. The third man nodded his head before turning and walking back the way he had come. Their business finished, Yaxley and Morgan then split apart and wandered back into the forest in opposite directions.

Ten minutes passed as Harry patiently waited to make sure that none of the three men were still nearby. Once Harry felt certain that he was well and truly alone in the woods, he replied to Sirius and Remus' messages. Then he took out his wand and cast the Patronus spell, instructed the ephemeral stag to lead Remus and Sirius to his location, and settled in to await their arrival.

While he was fairly certain that he could pinpoint Yaxley and Morgan if he ever met them again – they had to be the two men accompanying the Malfoy's earlier that morning – Harry had no idea who the third person had been. So while he had been able to make some progress on the quest, it was not enough. Not by a longshot.

**A/N:** Aaaaaand we are finally at the World Cup. A place where quests and daggers in the dark lurk in abundance. Things will be moving rather quickly as I power ahead; I hope that y'all can enjoy it. I also took some creative license with portkey travel and Harry's invisibility cloak. If you feel that there are any discrepancies with either, then that would probably be why.

Rita Skeeter is in the house! Or is it the dog house? :p Poor, poor Sirius. She's one of those characters that everyone, including myself, loves to hate, and I just _had_ to find a way to use her. Having adult characters interact also lets me use more suggestive bits than I'm comfortable doing with a thirteen year old Harry at this time. But trust me when I say that I have no plans to 'redeem' her in the slightest.

I am also doing something of a stealth rewrite of this story, where I am going back and editing the earlier chapters. Thus far I have finished and posted reworked versions for chapters 1-6. I have not added any new information to them, but have done things like removing extraneous sentences and shoring up dialogue, as well as correcting grammatical mistakes. All edited chapters will have a date at the very bottom signifying when they have been updated.

Last, but not at all least, I am quite interested as to what people will think of the chapter after this one. My current anticipation is that it will become one of my more controversial forays. ;-)

Updated on 1/17/2020

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	27. Chapter 26: Dominance of the Sexes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Dominance of the Sexes**

Lucius stormed into the private booth which he and several other respectable members of good breeding had reserved for the Quidditch World Cup. His gentleman's cane clicked sharply against the solid stone tiles, its distinctive sound acting as a metronome to his thoughts. He barely paid the low-born attendant any heed other than to note that the young man was a half-blood. Parkinson would handle the details, leaving Lucius free to focus on his priorities.

Right now there were three things which Lucius on which found himself focusing above all others. They were consuming his focus and devouring his attention, pushing him to distraction.

It was a state which he could ill afford at this time, and one which needed to be solved before he could advance any further.

Lucius threw his outer robe over a nearby chair, its velvety darkness fluttering as it moved. He then motioned for Draco to fetch some spirits from the liquor cabinet while Lucius sat himself in the sumptuous chair to contemplate his next move.

The first item on his mind was his divorce from Narcissa. The rotten bitch had taken far more from him in the divorce than Lucius considered acceptable, and thus far every attempt he had made to punish her had failed. It turned out that the manipulative vixen had made good use of the time they had each spent wooing members of the pureblood elite; people Lucius had expected to assist him in exiling the woman were proving oddly recalcitrant to his persuasions.

Some had even turned on him, as was most apparent in the woman's mudblood loving sister ascending to control of the Daily Prophet. His gambit to take control of the Prophet through Goyle had failed and the consequences of it were proving to be far more irritable than Lucius had anticipated.

That series of events was the driving force behind why he and Draco had made their appearance at the World Cup so early. With rumours swirling through high society about some of his less than legal business ventures – undoubtedly spread by the harlot herself in order to make him lose face with his peers – it was imperative that Lucius show the flag. He needed to put himself and his heir out into the world so that everyone could see that House Malfoy stood stronger than ever.

Weakness, be it real or imagined, was the enemy. Those who surrounded him could not be allowed to see or smell it, lest they abandon him like the public fleeing a fallen politician.

That annoying train of thought led to the second item at the forefront of Lucius' thoughts. The duel between his son and Potter would go a long way to demonstrating that the Malfoy's were still to be feared. Though the practice had fallen out of favour with much of society, it was still respected amongst those whose opinions truly counted.

Should Draco win in an overwhelming margin, then the boy's future position within pureblood society would brighten. It would serve to solidify Lucius' existing control, and demonstrate the ascendancy of House Malfoy to heights not seen since the days of Lucius' great grandfather.

The troublesome point was that it all hinged upon Draco's performance, and Lucius had grave doubts regarding his heir's ability to defeat Potter. Draco was a fine child; dutiful to his father and loyal to the pureblood cause. But a master duellist Draco was not. Nor did the boy seem to have much potential when it came to the more subtle exercises of power and influence.

Yet Lucius never would have issued such a challenge if he did not have a means for overcoming his son's readily apparent deficiencies.

After mulling over the various options, Lucius settled on two tried and true methods. Each was one he could put into place within a short span of time, and both had the added benefit of tying into the third piece of business on Lucius' mind.

Lucius looked up. His eyes quickly found Parkinson. The portly man had finished taking care of the half-blood attendant and was currently helping himself to the liquor cabinet. Meanwhile, the man's delectable daughter was currently following Draco around like a lost puppy; her vapid eyes, so common amongst certain lines of the well-bred, followed the boy's every movement as her rosebud lips spouted endless praise and adoration in his direction.

Excellent.

By all appearances the girl was utterly infatuated with him. A sentiment which, if Draco's somewhat standoffish behaviour was any sign, the boy did not seem to fully return. Yet it was only to be expected. Lucius had had many conversations with his son concerning women and had found that the boy's tastes differed from his own. A fact which had brought Lucius no small amount of sadness, as he had hoped to take Draco out amongst the lowly muggles to sate their appetite, just as his own father, Abraxus, had done with Lucius when he had been Draco's age.

Leading Abraxus to his death had been one of the hardest decisions Lucius had ever made. But seeing as how it had successfully kept Lucius out of Azkaban, well, he had managed to find a way to live with it. Quite comfortably as a matter of fact.

It was also one more sin he could lay at Narcissa's feet, considering that _she_ had been the one to come up with the plan in the first place.

Lucius' mind turned as watched the girl interact with his son for several minutes to confirm his initial observations. It was important that he be right about the girl's feelings, for if Lucius were wrong then the return from the ritual would be less than ideal.

By the time Hugh Parkinson sat down in the chair next to Lucius' own, he felt certain enough in his judgement to enact the first stage of his plans. After taking a moment to cast several privacy spells, Lucius met the other man's eyes and gave him a respectful nod of his head.

"Per your request, Hugh, I have thought over your proposition at great length." Lucius had indeed done so, and considering that Yaxley and Morgan had yet to report in regarding the cornerstone of his master plan it could not hurt to add some further insurance. "After much deliberation I believe that we might have a place for you in the upcoming bit of unscheduled entertainment we have planned for the general populace."

Parkinon's eyes lit up. But before the other man could say anything Lucius held up a gloved hand to silence him. "However, my dear old friend, nothing in this world comes for free. Everyone else who is a part of the venture has already paid their dues or contributed in some way. The same would be expected of you as well."

Hugh Parkinson nodded his head. Though a note of wariness had entered his eyes, Lucius could see the burning light of ambition overriding it. "I fully understand, Lucius. But what sort of payment might you be talking about? I am an open minded man, but my reach is not so vast as your own."

After smiling at the man's obvious attempt at flattery, Lucius cocked his head back as if he were deep in thought. After several seconds of feigning, he looked back at Hugh with a serious expression. "The payment offered by the others is no longer an option. Its window of opportunity has long passed."

Hugh nodded once again. "But of course."

"And seeing as how I am not so great as our fallen Lord, I would never ask for a vow of loyalty from you." Not yet at least. But perhaps in time when his power had grown greater. "So I ask of myself, Hugh, what _should_ I request of you? Perhaps money? Or maybe a favour of some sort?"

Parkinson grimaced. "I would of course be amenable to either option. You are a gentleman of good standing and good breed, Lucius, and I have total trust in your word. But my finances are currently stretched somewhat thin at the moment, and I am uncertain as to what sort of favour I could ever give to you that would be of equal worth."

Lucius nodded in seeming sympathy. One of the keys to deceiving another person was to make it seem like they had given you information which you did not previously possess. Hugh openly confessing what Lucius had already known merely meant that Lucius could now act as though he were making a concession to the other man instead of obtaining that which Lucius had been after from the very beginning.

"Then in that case how about a third option? Let us finalize your daughter's engagement to Draco. But instead of having the girl be his primary wife, as was originally written into the agreement, I would suggest that we change her status to that of a consort or concubine." Lucius opened his hands wide in seeming apology. "I know that she is your firstborn, Hugh, and that I am requesting much of you with this, but I ask that you keep in mind that Draco is my one and only heir. For the future of my House I would like to see the boy sire more children than I, and having two or more wives would go a long ways toward accomplishing such a goal."

Parkinson leaned back in his chair as he considered Lucius' words. The man's beady eyes flickered to his daughter, watching the girl as she hung off of Draco's arm. For once a smile was on Draco's face as the two laughed together at some unknown joke or turn of phrase.

Lucius hid a smile at the serendipity of the moment. He had lain the trap as well as he could. It was now up to Parkinson to persuade himself to walk into it.

After a minute of silence, Hugh turned to face Lucius once again. The man's pudgy face broke into a cruel smile as he held out his hand in agreement. "The two children always _have_ been fond of one another; moving up their engagement by several years should not cause much of a stir, and could instead be seen as a cause for celebration. I accept your terms, Lucius, and look forward to the joining of our Houses."

Lucius shook the man's hand and gave a cold smile of his own. "Excellent. We can finalize the details over at Borgin and Burke's after the opening ceremony has concluded; it's better to keep things such as this between we Purebloods rather than involving those despicable Goblins."

Hugh threw his head back and laughed. "Agreed! If weren't for that damnable treaty I'd pull my gold out of their grubby little claws faster than a Muggle whore could spread her legs."

The two men shared another laugh as they toasted their agreement. Then they settled in to watch the Cup's opening ceremony, though Lucius' thoughts were very much elsewhere. His plan had worked out perfectly, and soon his son would become strong enough to defeat Potter without breaking so much as a sweat.

How simple a thing it was to trick a parent into giving away their child for a momentary gain in status or wealth. Lucius had seen it happen more times than he could count, yet he never failed to get a thrill from it. What made this event even better than usual was that Lucius was certain that Hugh had at least an inkling as to why he had pressed the man for Pansy's hand.

And in return for his daughter Hugh would receive exactly what he desired. The chance to participate in an event which would send echoes throughout the entire magical world and secure Lucius' ascendancy amongst those who had once followed the fallen Dark Lord.

As for Pansy… well, the girl's matters were of little concern. If Pansy were lucky, then she might someday bear Draco's heirs. And if she were not so lucky, then at least the girl would bear the noble Malfoy family name.

It was a good sight more than most women ever deserved.

* * *

In the south of France there was a beautiful mansion. Situated by the Mediterranean Sea, its rose hued walls and yellow trimmed windows loomed high above the ground. Of sixteenth century Italian design, the mansion looked out upon a sumptuous private beach to one side and acres of manicured gardens on the others. Glimmering lights from magical creatures shone amongst carefully maintained trees and bushes, while the sounds of a wild herd of Hippogryphs echoed faintly upon the air.

The sounds of their calls washed through one of the open windows, where it entered the ears of two women locked in a battle of wills. A battle that was reaching its conclusion as each woman stared angrily at the other.

Fleur Delacour gave an annoyed huff as she stared at the woman seated in front of her. She may have approved of the necessity of what was being forced upon her, but that did not mean she had to enjoy it. Nor was she required to enjoy the woman who was supposed to be her tutor on the stupid subject.

"Okay Ms. Delacour, let us try it again. This time please enunciate the words written on the paper clearly and precisely."

Fleur looked down at the paper in front of her. The words were easily understood and looked so simple to say. After drawing in a deep and strained breath she did as the horrible woman had requested. "Zee leetle boy 'oo went to zee market bawt a bag oof bread."

"No!" The tutor rapped Fleur's knuckles with her wand as the woman forcefully enunciated each word. "That is wrong again, Ms. Delacour! The word 'the' has a 'th' in it. There is no 'z' in its spelling, and the letter 'e' is not pronounced so hard in that context. Honestly! For a woman whose mother can speak perfectly well, if in that dreadful American accent, and whose younger sister has demonstrated a high aptitude in the limited time that I have had with her, your continued inability to follow their example astounds me! Now try it again."

Fleur briefly imagined setting the woman's head on fire. It was not the first time this mental image had crossed her mind. Yet nevertheless she pressed on and made another attempt at saying the sentence. "Zee leetle boy 'oo..."

"No. No. No!" Another rap landed on Fleur's knuckles. "That is wrong yet again. It is pronounced 'the little boy who.' Try it again!"

Fleur felt her molars grind against one another as she made her next attempt. "_Zee leetle boy_..."

"THE LITTLE! There is no double 'e' sound in the word 'little.'" Ms. Peter's pasty white face flushed with anger as she moved nose to nose with Fleur. "It is the letter 'I' and is to be pronounced as such. Only uneducated fools or folk of common breeding are unable to speak it correctly. Neither of which applies to someone of your renowned lineage, Ms. Delacour. Now try again and this time do it right."

"ZEE LEETLE BOY 'OO..."

"WRONG!"

This time Fleur did not imagine setting the woman's head on fire. A quick flash of her wand had the bitch knocked out and floating out of the window before the dreadful woman knew what had happened. When she next awoke the woman would find herself lying on a bed of mixed manure the gardeners kept for maintaining the plants around the mansion. A position for which, in Fleur's mind, the woman was most eminently suited.

After taking a moment to appreciate her handiwork, Fleur closed the window and walked to her mother's study. The opulent halls around her might as well have been the plain white walls of a mental institute rather than the richly decorated ones she had grown up seeing. The portraits of her ancestors, each of whom had wielded immense power in their time and proud women all, failed to dilute Fleur's growing anger. While the less said about the extravagant woven tapestries the better; those she had never liked.

By the time she arrived at at the study Fleur was fully enraged. She barged inside of the room without knocking and slammed the door shut behind her. Then she levelled a glare at the tall woman currently laying on the room's large padded table as two men massaged her naked body. The woman's glorious pale figure, a model of beauty renowned throughout the wizarding world, raised slightly in greeting.

Appolline Delacour arched a delicate eyebrow as she looked in her daughter's direction. Perhaps detecting what was going through Fleur's mind, the woman raised a creamy white hand for the two men to pause in their ministrations and leave the room. Both men gave Fleur's mother a warm smile and obeyed, nodding their heads to Fleur in passing as they left.

Fleur barely paid their absence any attention. Her mother's fifth and sixth husbands were mainly kept around for physical reasons. Neither one seemed to have much of a brain, and since neither one was capable of speaking French there was not much of a relationship between the two men and Fleur. She had a much better relationship with her father, Appolline's first husband, and Gabrielle's father, Appolline's second husband, than she did any of the others.

Before Fleur could launch into a furious diatribe, Appolline cleared her throat and spoke in flawless American English. "Well, my darling flower, I can guess the reason as to why you have interrupted my personal time with my husbands. You may lay out your concerns, but you must do so in English. I will not have you waste what progress you have made by relying upon our native tongue."

"Non! Je ne..."

"Fleur. Either speak in English or I will rescind my permission for you to participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament." Appolline's sultry voice was as hard and cold as a sharp steel blade. "The choice is yours."

Fleur glared at her mother. For a moment, with the anger and rage she felt coursing through every vein of her body, Fleur nearly decided to defy her mother and speak in French anyway. It would serve the woman right to have a command rejected for once in her life. Goodness knows that no one else in the house was willing.

But Fleur forcefully wrestled that dangerous thought into submission; winning the Tri-Wizard tournament had become one of her major goals in life and she would not see herself fail to even reach the starting line.

Losing due to superior competition was one thing, as a life spent without encountering strong opponents to test herself against did not appeal to Fleur in the slightest. Failing because she could not control her own emotions, however, was another thing entirely, and was wholly unnaceptable.

So with all of the grace she could muster, Fleur grit her teeth and spoke in halting English "Oui, maman. I shall… try… to follow your weeshes to zee best oof… of my abileetees."

"Good. As my eldest I expect as much from you. It is pleasing to see that you have not disappointed me." Apolline sat in a cushioned chair situated nearby the table, where she crossed one of her creamy white legs over the other as she leaned into its soft embrace. "Now, considering that you are supposed to be in your tutoring session for another half an hour, I assume that something has happened regarding it. Is there an issue with Ms. Peterson's instruction?"

Long accustomed to her mother's preference for nakedness when at home, Fleur rolled her eyes at the mention of her tutor. "Oui! Zee woman 'as all zee grace and patience oof a… of a jackal! And zee manners of an 'ungry Manteecore to go weez eet. I beleeve zat I 'ave learned all zat I can under 'er instruction and 'ave ended our remaining sesheens."

"I see." Appolline pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Is Ms. Peterson aware that you have terminated her contract?"

"Ben non." Fleur flushed in embarrassment at her mother's question, shame at her earlier lapse in control overriding her anger. "After wee beegan to argue weez each ozzer, I may 'ave stunned 'er, and left 'er un… un… phaw! Asleep on zee bed oof dung in zee garden." Fleur spat out a curse in French before returning to English. "Euh! Maman, I 'ate zees language. Eet soundz stupid and eets grammar makes no sense!"

Appolline grunted slightly in bemused understanding. "That may be so when compared to the beauty of French, my beautiful little flower, but English is the current language of commerce in the world, and it is also the language of the nation in which you will soon be living for a year. It would behove you to learn it. As I intended with the hiring of Ms. Peterson for yourself and Gabrielle." The gorgeous silver-haired woman gestured for Fleur to continue. "Now, describe for me exactly how you terminated your future sessions with Ms. Peterson. I get the feeling that I may need to take action of my own to fix something you have already done."

Fleur grimaced upon hearing that. What she had done to Ms. Peterson had felt very good in the moment, but would most likely result in some sort of punishment from her mother. Summoning her courage, Fleur did as her mother had requested and began to state what had occurred between herself and her tutor.

A look of… something… flashed through Apolline's eyes as Fleur spoke. A flash of emotion that Fleur could not identify before it was gone. But the powerful Veela never changed her expression in any other way as Fleur spoke. Apolline merely shook her head in obvious disappointment upon Fleur reaching the conclusion of her tale, so Fleur ignored the flash she had seen and listened to her mother's words.

"Well, that truly is disappointing, my daughter. Both in terms of her conduct and in the conduct you displayed in reacting to it. Doing something similar in the future can, and will, be used against you by those who would wish to do you harm. Remember that lest you suffer a fate worse than death."

Fleur winced at that comment. It was lighter than she had expected to receive, but was most assuredly deserved. Veela and those descended from them may have obtained some measure of acceptance in magical France and other nations across the world, but individuals who desired to harm them were not without their own support. It was a fact of life that Appolline had hammered into her children from a young age, yet was something which Fleur still struggled to follow.

From what she had heard magical Britain was far worse than her own nation in this regard. Fleur could expect to receive heavy discrimination from much of the populace and little support when it reared its head. Under such circumstances, making an emotional reaction of a similar nature could prove to be exceedingly dangerous.

"But, if you truly feel that you would not be best served to continue your instruction under her tutelage, then I will support your decision." Appolline gave her daughter a pointed look. "For all of your continued wilfulness, my daughter, you have in the past demonstrated a keen ability to know what path you should take. I will have Jorge draw up the severance paperwork later this afternoon and make Ms. Peterson's dismissal official. We will most likely have to compensate her further as a result of your… petulant… action, but I don't foresee any other issues at this time."

Mollified by her mother's quick action regarding the despicable tutor, Fleur felt the anger and embarrassment welling up from inside of her begin to drain. But before it went away completely, there was still an important question which remained to be asked. "And I weell not need to 'ave a new tutor, maman?"

Apolline shook her head. "No, I think that the time for hiring a new tutor has passed. While possible, I would prefer to focus on other areas. Such as a little trip that I have planned for you and your sister to take alongside your fathers and myself one week from now."

A trip? Curious as to what might be important enough to interfere with the daily training sessions she had started with Madame Maxine after the English had officially decided to drop that silly rule prohibiting teachers from assisting their students, Fleur sat down in the cushioned chair next to her mother's. "What trip would zat be, maman? I 'ave not 'eard any mention of it."

"That, my dear flower, is because it was intended to be a surprise. One which I had not meant to share with you until the week prior to our departure. But considering the imminent dismissal of your tutor, I feel that it would be best to speed up the timetable and leave earlier than I had initially planned."

Apolline crossed her slim arms under her chest, the soft white flesh of her bountiful breasts spilling out under the pressure. "To help you acclimate during the year you will spend in Britain, your father and I felt that it would be best to attend the World Quidditch Cup which is to be held there over the coming weeks. The original intention was to only view the final match up, but with the dismissal of Ms. Peterson I think that you may be better served if we were to attend some of the other matches as well. Being there will help expose you to some of their rather… quaint… customs and bizarre oddities. Which in turn should allow you to more easily adapt when you are forced to live among them."

Fleur's eyes flashed in anger as she jumped to her feet. "Non! I do not weesh to go to eet. Zat eevent eez for fools and morons, not for ceeveelized people such as us. I do not weesh to go!"

Appolline gave an amused laugh as she rejected her daughter's rejection. "Your request is denied and we will depart in one week's worth of time. I expect you to use the time spent there to your advantage." Fleur's mother pushed her arms further inward, causing the woman's already spilling breasts to overflow. "I would suggest that, in addition to continuing your training, you follow your sister's example and make friends with one of the local students; any information you can gather on your potential competition could be well worth the effort."

When Fleur opened her mouth to try to continue her protest, her mother's resulting sharp look caused her to reconsider. Instead, Fleur settled for giving an unladylike snort of disbelief. "Fine. I will try to do what you suggest, maman, but I do not know about zee making of friendz. I 'ave found zat most peoples my age to be both seelly and petty. I doubt zat zis 'ermione person eez as nice as Gabby 'as mentioned to us; Gabby can often be too kind and nice for 'er own good."

Appolline shrugged her slim white shoulders. "Perhaps. Or maybe it is one of your sister's greatest strengths. But regardless of the strengths and weaknesses of your sister's personality, Fleur, my point remains. As I expect the trip to last for several weeks, I suggest that you follow my advice and prepare yourself accordingly."

The woman then stood up and moved back to her prone position on the padded table. "Now that we are finished, please send Hakeem and Satoshi back in while you are on your way out. They had not completed the massage when you interrupted, and my muscles have been feeling awfully tense of late after all of the last minute meetings I have been forced to attend; the removal of his bizarre rules aside, Professor Dumbledore's strange removal from the tournament's British delegation has proven to be quite vexing."

Appolline gave a frustrated groan, as if the very thought of her recent meetings was enough to cause the woman further stress. "Bartemius Crouch might be an accomplished diplomat and fluent in over thirty languages, both magical and non-magical, but he is _not_ a very likeable man. He lacks the professor's charm and wit, and I find the man staring at my figure far too often for my tastes."

Fleur gave her mother a sympathetic nod. The issue of men staring at a Veela or a woman of Veela descent was one which was constant and never ending. It had followed them throughout the length of history, and Fleur had no expectations that it would change in her lifetime.

Her mother, a full blooded Veela, had inherited the race's fabled beauty and charm to an incredible extent. Appolline was famed throughout the world for her beauty, and her having eight husbands had given the powerful woman a reputation for being rather free with her sexual favours.

A mistaken impression to be sure, and one which Appolline had used to cruelly crush more than one political opponent who had underestimated her over the years. Nonetheless, it was still commonly whispered about many international circles.

Between her mother's reputation, Fleur's own beauty, and the Allure which she had inherited as powerfully as any full Veela, the end result was Fleur's continual banishment to the edges of whatever social circles in which she found herself. This had given her a rather cynical view of people who asked to become her friend or acquaintance, as in her experience people were either trying to get into her pants or, in the case of several rather deluded girls, get her into the pants of someone else.

What Fleur kept from her mother was that this situation had also caused her to reject much of her mother's advice when it came to romance. Fleur had no desire to form a harem of men such as her mother had done; nor did Fleur desire to lose herself to the company and pleasures of women as her mother had in her own youth. Fleur had experimented with both men and women in the past and found the company of men _far_ preferable when it came to matters of romance.

No, all Fleur wanted when it came to romance was to have a single lover in her life. A man who would love her for whom she was rather than for the gifts she had inherited from her Veela bloodline. A man who could challenge her in ways that would drive her to become better and greater than she could ever become on her own.

Though such a man might be but a dream, Fleur hoped with all of her heart to someday find him.

But for now she did as her mother had bade and left the room. Fleur motioned for the two men standing outside that their presence had been requested and shook her head as both men nearly fell over themselves to return to her mother's side. The behaviour the two displayed in their haste to return to her mother's side illustrated a point often brought up by her mother and grandmother. That the male sex as a whole was weak, simple, and easily led.

It was the single greatest reason why Fleur despaired of ever finding a true partner.

**A/N:** Quite a contrast between the two viewpoints, was there not?

Happy Holidays to all and sundry, as odd as that may sound after a chapter like this one ^-^

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	28. Chapter 27: Seizing the Initiative

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Seizing the Initiative**

"Yaxley!" Sirius yelled as he punched his fist into a nearby tree. The action was sure to leave bruised knuckles and torn skin, but at the moment he did not care.

Not after his less than enjoyable encounter with Rita Skeeter and the unsatisfying romp that had followed. And maybe because Sirius felt more than a little mad at his godson for endangering himself while Sirius had been cornered by the blasted wretch of a woman.

"Of course he's involved," Sirius ranted as he began to pace. "Yaxley has been one of dear old Lucy's stooges since their days back at Hogwarts. And Morgan… well, the man's as big of a bottom feeder as they come, so hearing that he's skulking around makes perfect sense as well."

Remus voiced his agreement. "While you were confined to Azkaban, Lucius helped both men make impressive inroads in the business community. Along with Lucius, the two of them are responsible for taking on much of the Black family's less than savoury businesses. Getting taken over by Malfoy and the rest kept them from going under once your mother died eight years ago."

"Argh! That's just another reason for me to hate them. Those businesses deserved to _rot_! Forced breeding programs for House Elves; the enslavement and abuse of other sentient species like Centaurs and Veela; even the illegal hunting of endangered magical creatures like Unicorns! They deserved to have been banished to the fiery depths of hell! And I promise that I'll see that it happens if it's the last thing that I do!"

The mere thought that his family's less than reputable businesses might still be around – let alone _thriving_ – was like a shot to his kidneys. Sirius had hated everything that the Black Family had stood for when his parents had run the House, and to hear that others had taken up their work got under his skin like few things could.

Once Harry was safely back in Hogwarts for the school year, Sirius planned to enlist Andromeda's aid and go on the warpath. Between his ascendency to Lordship around that time and his cousin's position as Chairman of the Daily Prophet, he and Andromeda would have the power to make some waves and finally begin to tear down their family's despicable legacy.

"Sirius, Remus, please! We need focus on the issue at hand. Which is stopping Malfoy's planned attack on the World Cup." Harry said as he stood up from a makeshift seat on a bunch of gnarled roots. The kid ran a hand through his eternally messy hair, so much like his father's that it sometimes hurt Sirius to look at the boy, as he spoke. "Observe didn't work on them because all three were too high in level for me to read, but from what I overheard it seems that they're our best bet to complete the quest. So the important questions at hand are who are they, why are they helping Malfoy, and how can we use this knowledge to stop them from succeeding?"

Sirius growled at that. He loved his godson's focus on helping people, but all of this focus on the Game of Death only made his temper shorten. If he had not given his word that he would stop complaining, suffice to say that the conversation would have been going a _very_ different way. Starting and ending with why the kid had ignored Sirius' message and gone haring off on a dangerous chase by himself.

But Sirius _had_ given his word. And he would do his best to obey it even when it rankled him to no end.

After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Sirius levelled a stern glare at Harry as he responded. "Both of the men you tailed were Death Eaters who managed to slip free from Azkaban. Yaxley pleaded the standard Imperius Defence that most used, while Morgan managed to successfully argue that some other Death Eater had used a Polyjuice potion keyed to his likeness to carry out the only crime he had been positively identified as committing."

"Why am I not surprised that two of daddy Malfoy's pals are former Death Eaters?" Harry rolled his eyes at the obvious nature of Sirius' words. "And while I know about Polyjuice potion, what's the Imperius Defence? I've never heard of it before."

Sirius gave a shaky laugh as memories of the War against Voldemort came rushing back and chose to let Remus explain the Imperious Curse to Harry. The man would be teaching Harry and the kid's year mates all about the three Unforgivables later this year anyway, so the boy was only learning about their existence somewhat sooner than was meant to happen.

Once Remus had finished explaining Sirius saw that Harry's face had turned somewhat pale.

"Just when I thought that the wizarding world could not get worse," the boy murmured. "That's almost as bad as what Voldemort did to Quirrell in my first year, or what the Diary did to Ginny in my second. Only, instead of it being something rare and difficult to do, anyone with enough power can do the Imperius Curse and not even get caught afterwards."

"It's a piece of work alright, kiddo. But this' also why you should never assume that you know everything there is to know about magic," Sirius remarked. "Trust me when I say that there are rituals and spells so dark and evil in this world that they make the Imperius Curse look nearly benign in comparison."

His godson gave a shudder at Sirius' comment. But the boy was made of stern stuff and pushed on ahead. Not that Sirius would have expected anything less considering who his parents were.

"Anyway, now that we know two of the people involved – and at least _part_ of what their plan entails – I think that we should start following them around," Harry said softly. "That way we'll be in a position to stop them from affecting the Quidditch matches when they try something."

"That's a fine idea, kiddo," Sirius drawled. "But how do you propose we stop them? Our original plan was kept vague on purpose so that we could leave our options open until we got more information. Now that we have that information, what we need next are specifics."

Specifics which would, with any luck, preclude the boy from running off on his own after two Death Eaters and an unknown conspirator for a second time. Anything less would be unacceptable to Sirius, especially considering that Harry seemed to think that he was invincible. It was a trait that the boy shared with his father, and Sirius was determined to do a better job of protecting Harry from it than he had done with James.

"I dunno," Harry replied with a shake of his head. "Coming up with a detailed plan was never one of my strong suits. That's Hermione's strength while I'm more of an 'adapt to the moment' sort of person. But if we all put our heads together, then I'm sure we can come up with something."

A wolfish grin began to grow across Sirius' face at Harry's words. The display of innocent trust his godson had just given him and Remus with that statement was cute and adorable, and so much like his mother that it hurt a little to witness, but the boy's prior action of going off on his own called for some punishment. Sirius was not okay with the kid going off on his own and ignoring the messages Remus and Sirius had sent, and a mere verbal rebuke of the kid's actions was not nearly enough.

Besides, as a former king of pranksters, the opening his godson had just left was far too easy an opportunity to pass up. Sirius could use it to keep Harry safe and get a little revenge from the boy ignoring Sirius' wishes. He shot a look over at Remus and saw that his old friend had a vague idea of what was going through Sirius' mind. The nod Remus soon gave was an indication that he would follow Sirius' lead, which is all Sirius needed to know to take hold of the initiative.

"So you're saying that you will abide by whatever plan we all come up with?" Sirius asked his godson in a falsely innocent tone. "No matter what it might be?"

"Of course I am!" Harry responded defensively. "Why else would we come up with one together?"

"Hm. I see. That sounds like a fine proposition then, a fine proposition indeed." Sirius rubbed his hands together with glee. "I'm sure that, with your help, Remus and I can come up with a working plan. One which will take full advantage of each of our unique strengths and skills while keeping in mind our varying levels of proficiency in other areas. Does that sound good?"

"Ummm… sure?" The boy stared at Sirius with a wary look in his eyes. "Though something about the way you phrased that bothers me."

Well, the kid was right. Sirius had intended to be rather ambiguous with his wording. But now that he had the Harry's agreement it was too late for the boy to back out. Besides, it was high time Harry learned that allowing others to set the rules was tantamount to surrendering control of a situation.

The fact that Harry was going to hate what Sirius had in mind would just make the lesson stick all the more.

* * *

"Thank you for using Fizzban's Duelling Emporium, best in the duelling business since before the First Goblin War. Your opponent will be Blue Team, number four. We hope that you have a fun and exciting experience. Now please move aside so that the next customer may be served."

The dull, droning voice of the pretty young witch tasked with running the duelling registration desk caused Harry's eye to twitch. After making sure to grab the red arm band with the number three inscribed on it that the young woman was _supposed_ to have handed to him but had not, Harry turned and left the desk as quickly as possible.

The woman's droning voice encapsulated Harry's general mood in a perfect nutshell. Ever since that day in the forest he had found himself relegated to 'searching' or 'keeping watch' over a select few areas. Ostensibly because he fit in better than either Remus or Sirius, but Harry knew what was really going on.

The two men had sidelined him from his own quest, and while they were off tailing Malfoy's goons they had stuck Harry with the 'safe' assignments.

It was infuriating. For while watching professional Quidditch games in person and taking part in his first duels were exciting – both of which Harry had done quite often since that day in the forest – the knowledge that he was being cut out of his own investigation had cast a long pall over the entire week's activities. One which even the presence of a string of friends throughout the week was not enough to overturn.

Because as Sirius and Remus both knew, amongst Harry's friends only Ron and Hermione were aware of the Game of Death; Harry respected the abilities of witches like Andromeda and Professor McGonagall too highly to tempt fate and use its abilities in front of their sharp gazes. A fact which Sirius no doubt had in mind when asking them to watch over Harry for several days while he and Remus handled some 'important business'.

The three days Harry had spent under the watchful eyes of both Molly Weasley and Andromeda had been the most dull of the lot, even with a rapidly sprouting Ron – what _was_ his mother feeding him this summer – winning the International Wizard's Chess Youth Tournament and the twins nearly causing an international incident at the awards ceremony. Thank goodness for Ginny's wry sense of humour; discovering it had been a pleasant surprise, as without it Harry may have gone stark raving mad by this point.

Though watching a Quidditch Game in the private box the next day with their Head of House _had_ proven to be quite amusing; it had been the one day neither Malfoy nor his goons had shown up, and everyone had taken the opportunity to watch a game from Sirius' private box. Seeing the usually stern woman's face flushed from excitement as she screamed at the players was something he would never forget. Nor would Harry forget when, upon the Irish team's victory over Portugal, Professor McGonagall had slugged Andromeda's shoulder so hard out of sheer excitement that it had caused the other woman to topple into Sirius, knocking the man over and giving him a lump on his head.

It had been a fun moment, and Harry had gained more than a little bit of dark satisfaction at seeing it happen.

As he made a mental note to get the pictures Remus had taken of the event developed sooner rather than later, Harry felt Dora's powerful arm reach out and bring him in for a hug when he made his way out of the registration line. The young woman and her current girlfriend, Hestia Jones, were his minders for the day. And to say that they had been driving Harry up the wall since the moment Sirius and Remus had left him in their care would be an understatement.

"Awww, is my little 'ickle Harrykins feeling down because the pretty witch at the counter didn't smile and giggle at him?" The menace rubbed his hair fondly as she spoke. "Don't be sad, I'll comfort you in her place. Now c'mere so I can shower you with love and affection!"

Harry tried to brush her off. But in spite of his best efforts to the contrary Harry found himself unable to escape her powerful grasp. Maybe it was something about being a Metamorphagus, or maybe Dora just worked out a lot, but the woman was seriously strong.

Resigning himself to his fate, Harry felt a brush creep down his neck as the woman buried his face right between her firm breasts. This was the reason why the woman and her girlfriend had been driving him up the wall. Because both women had taken every opportunity to mess with his head after Dora had seen Harry blushing and stammering when Hestia had first done it to him upon their initial greeting that morning.

"See? Don't you feel better already?"

Harry tried to mumble something out in reply, but his current circumstances muffled his words beyond all recognition. Besides, as usual Dora took what he said and interpreted in the way she desired.

"Told ya! Next up is Hestia's massive valley. Her boobs are twice as big as mine and really soft too. I should know since I spent most of last night…"

His danger senses tingling, Harry managed to forcefully pry himself free of her grasp. Or enough so that he could yell at her. "Dora! Please, not in public! Not again. Two times was enough."

Having people stare at you while a girl recounted – in explicit and rather vibrant detail – her sexual activities of the night before had been _mortifying_. To the point where even Harry's annoyance at being sidelined had taken a back seat to it.

"Awww. But that's no fun at all. You should think of it as gaining valuable second-hand experience, Harry. It'll do wonders whenever you bag your first lay, as nobody knows a woman's body like another woman." Dora gave Harry a salacious wink as she laughed and drew him back into her modest chest. "Oh, the stories I could tell of the broom closets at Hogwarts. There's a reason why old man Filch checks them like a hawk searching for a mouse, believe you me! But we can go over those later. It's time for you to go off to do your little duel while I find Hestia – and her enormous bosom – so that we can both cheer you on!"

Against his better judgement Harry found that he did not really object to that statement. It was for the simple reason that Dora was right. Hestia's breasts _were_ quite large and soft. And though Dora's were nice – though he would be caught dead before telling her that – there was something… different when he was held by the much larger endowed woman. There was a warm and sugary feeling that spread throughout Harry's entire body, a nice one, but one which was very, very, very different than the one he got when Mrs. Weasley gave him a similar type of hug.

It was all so very strange and confusing to him, and Harry had found the faces of more than one girl he knew popping into his brain immediately after it had first happened.

Cho had been a certainty given how much he liked her; while the next stars of his imagination, Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones, had the best combination of good looks and developed figures in their entire age group. But Harry had felt _very_ weird when Hermione's face and breasts had made their own appearance in his brief delusion. It had broken him out of his daze and sent him scampering far from Dora and her girlfriend faster than might be considered manly. But Harry absolutely did not want to think about that could mean at all, so he did not.

Harry managed to raise his head enough to level a glare at the pink-haired menace to society that was currently giving him a smile brimming with cheer. "Then hop to it, Dora." Harry commented with as much dignity as he could muster given the situation. "I've got a duel to win."

Dora gave an airy salute in reply as she finally let go of him. "Yes sir Mr. Potter sir. Just make sure to show these foreign chaps what a cute little British stud like yourself is made of, okay?"

"You can count on it, Dora." Harry said, thanking every deity he could think of that the woman was ending her teasing there. He did not know how much more he could take before he snapped. "I won't let what you and the rest have taught me these past few weeks go to waste."

"That's the spirit! Oh, and by the by, should you actually happen to win, then Hestia and I will sandwich you between us while we hug. And maybe add in a little something extra if you manage to win in style, if you get my meaning."

Harry's mind stopped working for a second as he tried to process what Dora meant. And when his mind started going down a certain path Harry felt his earlier blush bloom into something which probably resembled the setting sun.

"Ha! Looks like your mind is going down the right path. Enjoy the parting gift, Harry, and think of what your future might hold in store!" So saying, the pink-haired girl tossed him another wink before dashing off into the crowd, laughing at the top of her lungs as she searched for her missing girlfriend.

Meanwhile Harry just turned around and stomped towards the duelling platforms, his ears and neck still burning from her parting tease.

"Stupid Dora. Stupid girls. Stupid hormones! And stupid Sirius for sticking me in the middle of this mess." Harry muttered under his breath as he walked. "Why can't they be easier to handle? Any of them? Even one would be nice."

Dealing any one of them was a tiring experience. But with all four in his life on a near constant basis, and with three of them thrusting themselves into his face on a day like today, Harry was finding his usual patience and control beginning to wear. Combined with his annoyance at being sidelined and Harry felt like he was a tea kettle filled to the brim with boiling water.

If only he had a way to distract Dora and escape to work on his quest. Then he could be free of this nonsense and actually doing something productive. But an opportunity to do so without her noticing had yet to present itself, so for now Harry could only vent his frustrations upon the unlucky individuals who stepped into the duelling ring with him.

Harry looked around and found his opponent standing nearby, signified by a blue shoulder badge with the number four inscribed on it. She was a young girl, maybe a year or two older than himself, who was wearing the red and white colours of Japan's national team. The girl was wearing some sort of formal looking Japanese clothing that vaguely resembled the robes worn by British witches and wizards.

A quick look at her stats with Observe caused a tiny smile to grow on his face.

**Kagome Tendo**

_**A young girl training to be a Miko, or Japanese Shrine Maiden, Kagome is a girl trapped between the past and the present. Her two older sisters and one younger brother, along with their parents, live with her maternal grandfather at an ancient shrine. She likes cute boys who are good at sports and enjoys baking in her spare time.**_

**Age: 15**

**Level 58**

**Stats:**

**STR: 38**

**DEX: 55**

**CON: 32**

**INT: 70**

**WIS: 53**

**CHA: 77**

**Traits:**

**Duellist**

**Kind Heart**

**Humble**

**Vain**

**Foreign Quidditch Fan**

By the standards of Hogwarts students Kagome was strong for her age, but the girl's stats were not nearly as high as his own. Which meant that she was not much of a threat to him unless Harry were to relax his guard or get cocky. Neither of which was going to happen. But just to be on the safe side, Harry began working on visualizing the people he would love nothing more than to hex to get himself mentally prepared for the fight ahead.

It was a useful technique Dora had taught to him, and one which Harry had found that he took to rather well.

Draco, Snape, Lucius, Crabbe, Goyle, Quirrell, and Lockhart's faces floated in and out of his mind. As they did, Harry felt himself begin to calm down from Dora's earlier teasing. His skin grew cool and his thoughts became quiet. By the time he heard the referee call out numbers three and four to the ring Harry had settled his emotions and felt ready to fight.

He climbed up a series of short steps and hopped into the ring. Circular in shape, it had a diameter of roughly fifteen feet. There were many far more elaborate duelling rings within the tent, but this one had been setup for the use of amateur minors like Harry and had been left rather plain.

"Duellists. Present your wands for inspection."

Harry and his competitor walked over to the referee and passed their wands to him. Upon checking them to make sure that both were in working order, the man handed the wands back to their owners.

"Since it's the first time that I've seen either one of you, allow me to explain the rules. In Amateur Level International Duelling there are three rounds, and whomever wins two of the three shall be the winner. You are allowed to do the following: stun, bind, or otherwise incapacitate your opponent with level 2 spells and below. No level 3 or above spells are allowed. This means that spells such as _Expelliarmus_ and _Petrificus_ _Totalus_ are acceptable while spells such as _Stupefy_ and _Incarcerous_ are forbidden. Finally, you are allowed to make physical contact with your opponent, but you can only win the duel if you render your opponent immobile through the use of magic. Understood?"

Harry gripped his wand and nodded his assent. He had already heard them dozens of times by this point. Besides, the rules for this type of contest were much simpler than the ones he was learning for his upcoming duel against Malfoy.

The referee looked between Harry and his opponent, each of whom had assumed a ready stance. "Very well. Then in 3… 2… 1… begin!"

Harry whipped his wand up to fire off a quick strike hex Remus had taught him and made sure to aim it slightly off-centre. "_Colloshoo_!"

The spell was avoided by his opponent, but it forced the girl to dodge to the side. Right where Harry wanted her. "_Expelliarmus_!"

The red jet of light blasted into the girl's chest, throwing her body back while sending her wand sailing through the air and into Harry's waiting hand.

"Round 1: Over! Red competitor wins."

Harry smiled and jogged over to where the girl. He offered her a hand up, which she took with a grateful smile. After exchanging some quick pleasantries – the girl spoke remarkably good English – he returned her wand and moved back to his original position. The girl did the same opposite of him, her dark eyes settling into a look of pure determination.

The referee looked between Harry and his opponent. "In 3… 2… 1… begin!"

Harry once again went for the quick out. "_Steleus_!"

This time Kagome blocked with a spell yelled in what Harry assumed to be the preferred magical language used by Japanese magicians. Their spells met in mid air, bursting apart in a flash of multi-coloured sparks.

But the simple light show was nothing compared to what came next as the girl raised her wand and pointed it directly at him.

"_Taiyō Furea_!"

One second Harry could see. Then the next second a blast of dazzling white light burst forth from the tip, blinding Harry's vision and sending white hot arcs of pain shooting through his eyes. Harry felt himself start to stumble backwards, but he caught himself before he took more than a step. The girl's attack might have been unexpected, but he had been trained to handle this exact sort of scenario.

Harry cast two quick hexes in the general direction where felt that he last saw her. A grunt of discomfort from his opponent made Harry think that he had forced her to dodge to the ground, so he changed the angle of his wand and tried to fire where he had heard her voice. As he did, Harry also desperately blinked his eyes in an attempt to hasten the return of his vision.

A snapped curse in Japanese told Harry that he had gotten close yet again. But when the girl shouted something which could only be the words to a spell it was Harry's turn to dodge.

He threw his body to the ground and rolled to his right, hoping against hope that he could throw off the girl's aim. The sound of spells splashing harmlessly next to him filled his ears and he knew that it had been a close call. But Harry kept up his roll, his Quidditch trained spatial awareness telling him that he still had eight feet left till he reached the ring's edge. Five or six more spells raced at him from his opponent, but other than a glob of sticky slime that caught the edge of his sleeve Harry was able to avoid them all.

Harry popped out of his roll with a foot to spare and raised his wand from a kneeling position. His eyesight, though blurry, had recovered enough to where he could see the girl's figure. "_Expelliarmus_!_ Titillando_! _Petrificus Totalus_!"

The three spells blasted at his opponent, each one dodged with a nimble grace. But with momentum back on his side Harry kept up the pressure and fired spell after spell at the girl's dancing figure.

It was when she did a split to avoid a disarming and jelly legs spell combination that he was able to finally nail the girl with a full body binding spell. Harry then raised his fists in victory after the referee checked the girl's condition and declared him to be the winner.

Harry might not like being sidelined from the quest, or dealing with Dora's madness, but duelling was _fun_ when he was winning… and Harry had been winning a _lot_.

After shaking hands with the pretty girl and collecting a ribbon signifying his victory, Harry made his way down the steps and back into the waiting throng of duellists. Never had he been so glad that his fame was not so great as to extend to the entire globe, as only one of the crowd members waiting their turn called out his name and tried to shake his hand. It took only seconds for Harry to reach the spot where he saw Dora and Hestia grinning and waving at him.

Their grins were infectious; Harry felt the one covering his own face widen as he gave Dora a high-five. "So? What did you think of the duel, oh great and powerful Auror?"

"It was great!" Dora shouted in excitement. "You've still got plenty to learn, but you've come a long way since we first began duelling at the Cottage. I mean, that blinding spell you got hit with was something else. That was one nasty but brilliant manoeuvrer the girl pulled."

"I was so worried for you when she did that," Hestia said in a breathy voice. The woman's long black hair framed a pale face that did not even look remotely worried, but which still managed to make Harry's heart race for some bizarre reason. "I thought for sure that she had you with that one and that we would need to cheer you up afterwards."

Harry shook his head. "Thanks, but that never would have happened. Remus and Sirius have been blindfolding me in some of our mock duels since the second day they started teaching me. So while her move was definitely surprising it was nothing that I couldn't handle."

"Oh ho ho," Dora crowed. The menace reached over and began slapping Harry's back hard enough to make him stumble. "Look who's acting all high and mighty now that he's won his first duel. I'd be careful if I were you, Harry, 'cause your britches look about ready to split."

"Aw, don't be so mean to him, Dora," Hestia chided as she placed an arm around her girlfriend's supple waist to pull her away. "He's still only thirteen. Let him have his moment of victory and we can give him the reward that you promised."

Wait a tick. Did Dora think that this was his first win?

"Whoa, hold on a moment, girls." Harry interjected with a shake of his head. "My first win? I think that you're both missing something here."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the two ladies as a simple plan to take shape in his mind. Dora's reward would have been nice to experience – very nice – but Harry had something even better in mind. A lesson that he had recently learned from his godfather that Harry intended to put to good use.

Revenge.

Revenge for all of the teasing that the two ladies had been putting him through all day, and revenge for being sidelined by his godfather for nearly the entire week.

With a smile on his face that he knew was smarmy, Harry drew a metaphorical dagger and prepared to plunge it in deep.

"Dora, I've been coming here for roughly two hours a day for nearly an entire week. This is the _fortieth_ duel that I've won, not my first." Harry paused a moment for dramatic effect. "And did I mention that it was forty wins in a row? And that I'm undefeated too?"

Dora stared at him in disbelief. "Codswallop."

The dagger had landed on the mark. Now it was time to twist it.

"Really? Then what are all these ribbons doing here in my possession?" Reaching into the back pocket of his trousers, Harry pulled out a little booklet he had purchased on his first day in the tent. Upon opening it he thrust the ribbon filled pages towards the young woman's face. "Count 'em and weep, Dora!"

For a moment the woman was silent as she did indeed count them. And then, incredulously, count them again.

By the third time round Harry felt that the intensity of his smug grin could rival that of his previous opponent's blinding spell as the completely flummoxed woman's hair shot through a riotous mix of colours. From pink to white, to fuchsia, to lime green, and all the way through the entire rainbow before returning back to it's normal shade of hot pink. Dora's hair told the story of her spiralling emotions and Harry fully enjoyed watching.

Oh how he wished that he could do this to Sirius. But Harry would just have to settle for Dora while he planned his vengeance against his godfather. The Weasley twins had given Harry some great advice on the subject when they had been together and it was only a matter of time before he implemented one of their suggestions.

Eventually the young woman handed the book back to Harry in complete silence. She then stepped back and gave a cough as if to clear a dry throat. "Well, er, forty wins doesn't really _mean_ anything, kiddo. Even if they were in a row. Oh sure it's impressive for your age and all, so cheers, but _I_ could do that in a single day if I were really serious."

"Oh? Are you sure about that?" Harry teased with a laugh. But before he could tease the beautifully blushing girl any further a notification from the Game popped up.

One whose timing could not have been better.

**Ding!**

**Lose the Tail**

**Trick Your Assigned Minder By Playing on her Competitive Spirit**

**And Regain your Freedom by Making a Quick Escape**

**Quest Reward:**

**1 Level**

**Please Select  
**

**Yes or No**

The Game had given Harry an opening to get back to doing what he wanted! All he had to do in order to succeed was to seize hold of the opportunity with both hands, and for the first time since he had followed Yaxley and Morgan through the words Harry felt like things were once again going his way.

That, and it was also amusing to see that the Game of Death found tricking Dora to be of the same level of difficulty as defeating Draco Malfoy in a duel.

Harry did his best to dial up the smarmy smile on his face to Malfoy levels of annoyance. The groundwork might have been laid by his previous actions, but he would need to pull out all of the stops in order to succeed. "If you're really serious about backing that up, Dora, then prove it. Otherwise you're just all talk, and I will forever be better than you at Duelling."

Dora's resulting explosion was everything he had hoped to engender with his statement. Harry had the young woman right where he wanted her when she fell for his taunt with all the grace of a hungry Ron digging into his morning breakfast.

* * *

From his spot upon a nearby barstool, a polyjuiced Wormtail watched as Potter and his pretty Auror minder got into a shouting match. Whatever it was the two were arguing over it seemed that the boy had won, as upon its conclusion the kid had a rather annoying smile plastered all over his face while the young woman proceeded to stalk away from the boy and toward the duellist registration counter with all the grace of a rampaging Giant. Her pale looking girlfriend, desirable in a big breasted sort of way, followed her, leaving the Potter brat alone with a smug grin on his face.

For a moment Wormtail's wand hand twitched. Potter was unaware of Wormtail's presence. Yet more importantly, the boy was now without the protection of the minders who had been with him for most of the past week. And while Wormtail may not have been the duelling equal of either James or Sirius, Wormtail was completely confident in his ability to take down the son of his old friend in an ambush situation.

But there were too many potential witnesses and obstacles nearby which could complicate an escape, so Wormtail stayed his hand for the time being. Instead, he chose to down the rest of his warm beer and follow a safe distance behind as the boy made his way out of the tent. Taking the Potter brat to his master might have been a nice bonus, but he had been tailing the brat for several days now and the dossier his Lord had commanded Wormtail compile on the boy was nearly complete. Completing his assigned task was more important than an extra achievement.

Some people might think that the boy was lucky to not have been kidnapped or killed. But in Wormtail's mind those people would have been wrong.

For allowing a calf to become fattened before it was slaughtered was no act of mercy.

**A/N:** I made some unexpected progress with my post-holiday writing, so I felt like posting this guy earlier than I anticipated.

This chapter was all about furthering established themes and showing the beginning of Harry's maturation as a character. Hopefully the parts featuring Dora felt organic, as (per usual) she constantly tried to yank the plot out of my control and take the story in entirely unplanned directions.

The tone of this story is about to change, folks, as the action, adventure and romance parts of the plot begin to ramp up. Style wise it will also be more indicative of what the sequel will be like now that I have (finally!) finished with restructuring the vast majority of the HP canon and universal structure prior to Book 4 and can get on with my own AU.

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	29. Chapter 28: Summer Love

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Summer Love**

"That was too easy!" Harry laughed to himself as he left the duelling tent. "If I'd known Dora would be that simple to distract then I'd have done it sooner. Honestly, it could've saved me _so_ much trouble when she was teasing me earlier."

The plan to distract Dora had been a runaway success. After Harry's taunts, the young woman had grown incensed and declared that she would pass his forty wins before the day was up. Hestia's feeble attempt to calm her down had failed, and Dora had stalked off to register for her duels with the older woman close in tow. Leaving Harry blissfully alone and free to do what he wanted.

Which is why his first order of business was to get into a secluded area so he could pull up the most recent series of messages sent via the Game's Party feature.

Harry made his way out of the crowd and picked out a secluded tree just off of the main pathway. A quick glance around showed that only one man was looking at him, and once the man shifted his gaze away it left no one else looking in Harry's direction, allowing Harry to bring up the messages and begin reading. He also checked his status and smiled upon seeing the additional level – plus the three he had gotten from all of the duelling and hard work he had been doing for the past week – added to his name.

**Harry Potter**

**Age: 13**

**The-Boy-Who-Lived**

**Heir Apparent to the Potter Family**

**Basilisk Slayer  
Heroic Child**

**Golden Boy**

**Level 53**

**Stats:**

**STR: 61**

**DEX: 78**

**CON: 59**

**INT: 142**

**WIS: 118**

**CHA: 373**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Duellist**

**Survivor**

**Humble**

**Elf-Friend**

**Boy-Who-Lived**

**Half-Blood**

**School Quidditch Star**

**Possessor of a Deathly Hallow**

**Clutch Performer**

**Foe of the Dark**

**Battle Hardened**

**Dark Arts Magnet**

**A Mother's Protection**

**Weak Familiar Bond (Hedwig)**

**Peverell Bloodline**

**Walking Target**

**Oblivious One**

**Parseltongue**

**Headstrong**

**True Friend**

**Negotiator**

**Dedicated**

**Horcrux**

**Gamer**

After reading through their private messages to one another – Harry had recently learnt through the Help feature that, as the Gamer, he could see _all_ messages sent using his Party feature, and had kept the new knowledge to himself – in addition to the ones they had sent to him, Harry noted that both men were currently occupied.

Apparently Sirius had overheard Yaxley tell Lucius that the first part of the plan would be enacted today. Lucius had asked if the man needed any help, to which Yaxley had responded that he only needed Lucius to continue with his planned schedule. Lucius had then dispatched Morgan to a game with Draco so as to keep their attendance cover up and then split from Yaxley.

In order to respond to this unanticipated situation Harry's guardian's had chosen to split up as well. Remus was tailing Yaxley as the man wandered near some sensitive security areas while Sirius had joined the elder Malfoy on a behind the scenes VIP only tour, where according to Sirius' latest message the two were trading constant barbs with one another.

To Harry it seemed like his guardian's had made the logical decision as both of the areas they had gone to were vital to the Cup's security and operation. But their decision also meant that Morgan was currently uncovered by anyone. A fact which caused Harry to frown.

After looking through several older messages Harry read that the former Death Eater and Draco had last been seen making their way towards a separate Quidditch pitch about half an hour prior. According to the list of scheduled matches Harry had memorized, a game was scheduled to start at that particular pitch at two in the afternoon.

Which was in roughly fifteen minutes.

Harry closed the messages and made his way towards the pitch. If he hurried, then Harry would be able to make it in time to catch the game and potentially foil a dark plot along the way. It was a long shot that Morgan was up to anything nefarious, but after nearly a week of being sidelined Harry was ready to dive back into things with a vengeance.

By the time he made it to the stadium the match was nearly set to begin. Harry tried looking for Morgan, but neither the man nor Draco were anywhere to be seen and the crowd was much too thick to attempt using Observe. Then the opening whistle blew, causing the restless crowd to burst into raucous cheers and frantic movement as Quidditch players sped through the air above and obscuring any chance Harry had to find someone who did not want to be found within the crowd. Harry gave up for the short term and found himself a place where he could sit and watch the game in the meantime.

* * *

Morgan cursed his rotten luck as he heard the game begin. He was supposed to have made his move before the match started and having to adjust his timing meant that the plan was now in jeopardy.

With the assistance of their informant and Lucius' connections, he and Yaxley had managed to render the Ministry's venue security ineffective. This had allowed them to scope out the venues to their heart's content and pinpoint the best times to strike, while the few surprise checks or patrols conducted by the various Ministry departments were a minor irritant that was easily avoided.

What was _not_ proving to be so easily avoided were the damn nuisances they had picked up along the way. Yaxley had been the first to notice, but it seemed that Potter's two guardians had taken to following their every move. One of the two men often tailed Yaxley and Morgan whenever they separated from Lucius and had nearly caused the plan to fail on three separate occasions already.

That could _not_ be allowed to happen today. But just when Morgan had been ready to start after they had tricked the two meddlers into following Lucius and Yaxley, what would happen? The damn Potter brat had come waltzing into the stadium as bold as brass, forcing Morgan to grab Draco by the scruff of his tiny neck and duck into a side passage leading around the edge of the stadium seating areas.

Getting caught in the act of would be enough to ensure a one-way trip Azkaban. Between Pensieve testimony and Veritaserum confirmation there would be no way for Morgan to escape this time around without being ruined. And given the many ways for wizards and witches to contact one another over long distances, Morgan was not willing to risk Potter summoning his guardians at an inopportune moment.

So Morgan cursed the Potter brat under his breath as he ran to the other side of the stadium with Lucius' spawn close in tow. There was still a way to salvage the situation, but Morgan would need Draco's help to make sure that it went off without a hitch. It was high time the boy got his hands dirty anyway.

* * *

Three hours later saw a disappointed Harry exiting the stadium. Bulgaria's match against Finland had turned into a rout midway, 530-220, thanks to a miraculous half-time rally, and he had failed to catch Morgan doing anything suspicious.

When Harry had finally caught sight of Morgan towards the end of the match, sitting with Draco in the upper right hand corner of the stadium, Harry had not noticed anything amiss. Taking a risk he had tried casting Observe on important people located nearby them, like stadium security, but the spell had only shown the various people to be normal individuals with normal stats. Which meant that Morgan had either already done something to affect the match or Harry had wasted his time on a dead end.

Either way it was annoying and Harry was less than pleased. He poked around the area where he saw them sitting for a little bit just in case, but he failed to spot anything sinister even when using Observe. So he gave it up as a lost cause and began to make his way out of the stadium, joining in on the tail end of the crowd while he tried to think of anything else he might have missed.

Just as he passed by the entrance, though, something slammed into Harry's back hard enough to send him sprawling. His instincts blaring in alarm, Harry scrabbled to grab hold of his wand and fish it from out of his pocket. Once that was achieved he then rolled to his left to throw off the aim of whomever had tried to take him out.

Only to come to an immediate halt halfway through his first rotation as an unmistakeable voice called out to him and sent a burst of electricity shooting through his nervous system. This feeling was only amplified when a quest notification from the Game popped up that left Harry utterly stupefied.

**Ding!**

**Quest Notification**

**You Gotta Kiss The Girl**

**You Have Met Cho Chang at the Quidditch World Cup**

**Woo Her Right and You've Got a Shot at Earning Her Favour**

**Quest Reward:**

**A Kiss (or More) From Asian Beauty Cho Change**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

"Harry? Is that really you?" Cho Chang's melodious, lightly accented voice called out. "I'm so sorry for bumping into you like that! I wasn't watching where I was going."

Harry shook of his stupefied state and looked at the girl splayed out across from him. Her delicate features were scrunched up in apology while dust covered her cute muggle attire; a simple mini-skirt and blouse combination paired with knee-high socks that Harry had never before seen her wear. Though now that he saw her in it he did not think that he could picture her in anything else ever again. Harry had never before thought of Cho as being leggy, but he could hardly keep his eyes from staring at the skin revealed in the gap between her socks and mini-skirt.

"No! There's uh, um, no need for you to apologize like that, Cho," Harry managed to stammer out. He picked himself off of the ground in a hurry, punched yes on the quest notification as he did, and reached a hand out to the older girl for good measure. "Here, please, let me help you up. It was my fault for not watching where I was going."

Cho accepted his offer and pulled herself upright. Still a little taller than him – though not so much as when the school year had ended – the pretty girl reached out a hand to steady herself against his shoulder. Her long black hair swayed from the movement and Harry caught the scent of feminine perfume wafting through the air.

She gave a laugh as she removed her hand from him and began to pat herself down to remove the dust now coating her clothes. "In that case, Harry, let's just agree that it was both our faults and move on. Okay?"

"Oh! Uh, um, yeah. Sure!" Harry nodded. His hands twitched and for a moment he almost tried to help Cho get the dust off of her clothes before he realized how inappropriate that would be. Instead, Harry settled for asking her how long she had been at the tournament and what she had most enjoyed about it so far.

"My dad brought me and my little sisters here two days ago," Cho said with a bright smile, "so we missed the opening ceremony and the first brace of matches but have caught most everything else. Right now they're all off on some kind of tour he is giving some VIPs, however, so I'm on my own for the day. How 'bout yourself, Harry?"

"Erm. I, uh, I've been here since the first day, actually," Harry stammered out, wanting to kick himself as he did. It was a miracle that the gorgeous girl had not yet left as he could not seem to avoid sounding like a daft moron whenever she was around. "I-I, erm, what I mean to say, is that I just got done watching the Bulgarian match. Did you see it?"

Once again Harry wanted to kick himself. Or curse himself. Or something, _anything_, that might stop him from sounding like the world's biggest idiot. _Of course_ _Cho had seen __the game_! _She__ had been leaving the stadium too_!

Thankfully Cho did not seem to mind Harry's far too obvious question. The beautiful girl gave him a smile and nodded excitedly. "Did I ever! I didn't think that I would ever see a more talented Seeker than you, Harry, but that Bulgarian bloke, Krum, is just amazing! Did you see the manoeuvrer he pulled when he closed in on the ground? Someone in the seat next to me called it a 'Wronski Feint.' I don't even know if I could pull off something like that in practice, let alone in a game!"

Flattered by her praise of his skill, although feeling somewhat annoyed at how Cho thought the Bulgarian bloke was more talented than him, Harry gave a laugh as they launched into a detailed talk regarding the match. And as their talk progressed Harry found himself stuttering and stammering far less than he had at the beginning. Discussing the sport of Quidditch seemed to calm his beating heart, and the more time that passed the easier his words seemed to come to him.

Harry managed to pull off a stealthy Observe on her while they walked, curious as to what it might show. He was able to read it when Cho made a quick trip to the loo and he pretended to do the same.

**Cho Chang**

_**Daughter of Li and Deborah Chang, she is a free-spirited girl who enjoys spending time with others. Spoiled by her parents from an early age, she can sometimes be flighty and fickle. While a dedicated student, her favourite things to do are to talk about Quidditch and boys with her friends. She is chased by many of the boys at Hogwarts and enjoys a good kisser. (See Character Page for Further Information)**_

**Age: 15**

**Level 48**

**Stats:**

**STR: 45**

**DEX: 72**

**CON: 40**

**INT: 51**

**WIS: 17**

**CHA: 46**

**Traits:**

**Quidditch Fan**

**School Quidditch Player**

**Free Spirit**

**Spoiled**

After reading it Harry then, against his better judgement, selected the 'character page' option. He hoped and prayed that it was better information than he had seen every other time he had selected the thrice cursed feature. But as usual what he saw made Harry want to bang his head against a wall and yell at the Game for its continuing torment.

_**Cho Chang**_

_Daughter of Li and Deborah Chang, Cho is a free-spirited girl who enjoys spending time with others. Spoiled by her parents from an early age, she can sometimes be flighty and fickle. While a dedicated student, her favourite things to do are to talk about Quidditch and boys with her friends. She is often chased by the boys of Hogwarts and enjoys a good kisser._

_After playing against Harry Potter at Hogwarts and seeing his immense skill on a broom, Cho knows that she does not have what it takes to become a professional Quidditch player. However, she plans to either enter the Quidditch supplies industry or to follow in her father's footsteps as an employee of the British Ministry's Department of Magical Games and Sports._

_Cho is currently weighing whether or not to accept Cedric Diggory's offer of going steady, given to her at the end of the school year, but has yet to make up her mind. She enjoys being single and worries that, if things go well between them, she will be forced to give up her career aspirations._

_Cho has a long waterfall of silky black hair, black eyes, creamy skin, and stands at 5'4. She has a moderate bust, narrow hips, and a tight butt._

_Allies: Deborah Chang, Li Chang, Cedric Diggory_

_Friendly: Marietta Edgecombe, Ravenclaw Quidditch Team_

_Acquaintances: Fellow Ravenclaw students_

_Hostile: None_

_Hated Ones: None_

_Romantic Affections: Cedric Diggory (very strong), Harry Potter (strong), Viktor Krum (moderate), Roger Davies (moderate), Duncan Inglebee (weak), Jason Samuels (weak), Oliver Wood (weak), George Weasley (weak), Fred Weasley (weak)_

_Of course_ this is how things had turned out. Cho Chang, the girl that Harry liked more than any other, had already been asked out by someone else. Someone whom every girl at Hogwarts seemed to like and who just happened to be the only person to beat Harry to the Snitch in a meaningful game of Quidditch.

Sometimes it felt like the universe seemed to enjoy making Harry its whipping boy. Because if the Game were to be believed, then Harry had made contact with Cho right as she was trying to decide whether or not she should date Cedric Diggory. Leaving Harry facing a decision far less weighty than that of the Attack quest, but one which felt far more heavy due to its personal nature.

In a daze, Harry walked out of the lavatory and back onto the dirt path that meandered along the tournament grounds. He began to pace back and forth as he wrestled with his thoughts. In Harry's mind an angelic version of Hermione argued for making the honourable choice, that if he were to make a move on Cho it would a betrayal of his morals. That Cedric was a good guy who had already asked Cho out, and that to get in the way would be both rude and nasty to the honourable bloke.

Meanwhile a devilish version of Dora – complete with flaming hair and sharpened teeth – argued that Harry should just do it. That for what use was the Game and it's powers if Harry did not use them to their fullest advantage? The current situation he was in, where Harry wanted something and the Game was telling him that he could achieve it if he just tried was for all intents and purposes begging Harry to go for it.

The two arguments collided in his brain. In the end it was the devilish Dora who won when she stated that this might be Harry's last chance before Cho actually did decide to date Cedric. In which case pursuing her at that time _would_ be a betrayal of Harry's morals and that by chasing her now rather than later Harry would actually be keeping to his true values. That right now Cho was currently fair game, Harry was interested, and the Game had said that he had a chance.

Though Harry bore Cedric no ill will, and he even liked the older bloke, Harry felt that he would be a fool if he were to step aside right now and do nothing. So he firmed his heart and resolved himself to take full advantage of the opportunity given to him by the Game.

Once Cho returned the two of them settled into a small table just off the beaten path so they could talk without being interrupted when a nearby street vendor popped over to hawk his wares; various types of food ranging from American style hot dogs to Hungarian stew. After a moment's indecision on the part of Harry, Cho suggested that they get something to drink and snack on before the next match started. Harry agreed and purchased a pair of small minced-meat pies served with freshly squeezed pumpkin juice for the both of them to share.

Between his own limited experience, Dora's outrageous stories, and Sirius' terrible advice imparted during 'the talk', Harry might not know how to best woo a girl, but treating Cho to a meal seemed like a good place to start.

It seemed to work as Cho gave him a coy smile when the street vendor left. "Thanks for the treat, Harry. But why go through the effort to get on my good side? I could have paid for it myself, you know."

Harry flushed at the comment. "N-no reason at all, Cho. I, uh, just wanted to be a gentleman is all."

"Hm. Then in that case, Harry, you have certainly succeeded. And as the charming young lady who has received your gentlemanly generosity, please allow me to thank you for your exceptional kindness."

Faster than the suddenly stupefied Harry could react, Cho closed the distance between them and planted a quick kiss onto his cheek. Her dark eyes glittered with mirth as she returned to her seat.

"And that is all that you'll get from me for now, Mr. Gentleman. Let's talk about the next match while we eat. I hear that England's Seeker is the only one that can give Krum a run for his money, but that the Chasers and Keeper are rather rubbish. What do you think?"

Harry thanked his lucky star for Ron's many letters and vast knowledge on this particular subject. Because without them Harry would have been utterly lost in the ensuing conversation.

* * *

"And that's win number thirty-seven in a row!" Dora yelled from her place atop the main duelling platform. "Who's next? If you think you've got the courage, then step on closer to the edge and prepare yourself to get broken! My wand cries out for the blood of more victims!"

Hestia held up an embarrassed hand to cover her face as Dora yelled at the crowd of spectators who had gathered to watch her duelling exploits. Hestia adored her, but whenever Dora's competitive spirit got fired up to this extent the younger woman had a tendency to become somewhat unbearable. According to Dora it had something to do with her mother's side of the family, but that had been all that Hestia had been able to drag out of her at the time.

"What, no takers? None at all? Just because you're destined to fall before my towering self doesn't mean you should let fear hold you back. I'll even promise to go easy on the next challenger by tying one hand behind my back and keeping it that way for the entirety of the duel."

"Oh gosh, she's only getting worse," Hestia muttered to herself. "By this rate she's never going to leave even after she beats Harry's record. She'll probably want to stack win after win on top of it just to rub it in the boy's face."

Dora seemed to be working herself into quite the frenzy on stage and there was nothing Hestia could think of that would calm the woman down. Hestia had already tried to lure Dora away with kisses and caresses, and the promises of more should Dora leave the ring behind, but it had only achieved momentary success before the woman had pulled away to jump back into the ring for her next duel.

As Hestia looked on through spread fingers, a hard-bitten wizard who appeared tough enough to chew rocks took up Dora's challenge. The man jumped into the ring with a roar of challenge. One that Dora tossed back with equal vigour.

"In the name of all that is holy!" Hestia yelled in disbelief. "Dora, stop fooling around and beat him already! There's no need to thump your chest like some idiot of a man."

Her shout went unheeded. Within seconds Dora and her opponent were locked in a duel. Spellfire tore through the air as the two combatants blocked, dodged, and countered their opponent's spells. The man's face was locked in a rictus of concentration as he fought while Dora's contained a look of wild glee, her hair weaving through a rainbow of bright colours as she duelled.

It was official. Dora had gone off the deep end and there would be no returning until she got it out of her system. Something like it had happened twice before when they had been in bed with one another – where the increased enthusiasm had been _most_ appreciated – but never had Hestia seen it quite like this. It seemed that the only way to end things early was if someone appeared who could give Dora a run for her money, but with the immense skill the young Auror possessed the likelihood of that happening was rather low.

"Excusez-moi, but would anyone 'appen to know where ze regiztration dezk eez?" A beautiful, lilting voice said from somewhere nearby. "I would like to duel zat woman, but I do not know where eet eez located."

Eager for any distraction from the crazed figure that was her girlfriend, a depressed Hestia turned to offer the French speaker some assistance. The voice sounded like it belonged to a cute girl; helping her might help to lift the thick cloud of gloom that was slowly falling over Hestia as Dora continued her rampage unchecked.

* * *

"And he's dooooown! In a display of the _worst_ bit of unsportsmanlike conduct I have _ever_ seen in over thirty years of playing and commenting on professional Quidditch, the French Beater Gagne has taken out the British Seeker, our beloved Hardwin, by using his beater's bat to apparently bash in the man's skull. Security! Remove that man from the pitch before we have a riot on our hands. That sort of action has _no_ place in our sport!"

Ludo Bagman's amplified voice boomed through the stadium as the people surrounding Harry and Cho rose to their feat in anger. The two young teenagers found themselves joining in, shaking their fists and screaming their voices at what they had just seen happen. After playing against Slytherin for years both teens had felt they had known the sorts of depths that dirty teams would stoop to in order to win, but this match had been an eye opener.

In a professional Quidditch match it was legal to hit the Seeker after they had caught the Snitch. Rival Seekers usually did this in order to steal the golden ball away from their competitor, while the opposing Beaters would try to jar it loose through bludger hits. It was the major reason why the Snitch did not stop dead in professional matches as many fans felt that it added a bit of excitement and flair to the game's outcome. But instead of staying within the rules and hitting the English Seeker, who had just caught the Snitch, with a bludger, the French Beater had used his bat to smash in Hardwin's face!

That was _not_ allowed and looked to have cost the French team the game.

"It appears that the despicable Frenchman is trying to argue his case," Ludo's booming voice stated in disdain, "but it's not going well for him. This is as cut and dry a case as I've ever seen, folks. I don't think that it'll be long now before the officials – aha! The officials have tossed Gagne out of the game and declared the match over. Final score is 340-230. Good sportsmanship triumphs and England wins! Jolly good showing out there chaps, you've done your country proud!"

With the match over Harry and Cho started to file out of the stadium with the rest of the crowd, the pair talking animatedly as they moved.

"What a game! It was completely different than the Bulgarian match," Harry yelled in excitement. "It was almost like watching a professional version of Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

"I know!" Cho yelled as she elatedly jostled his shoulder. "I'd heard tell that the French liked to play dirty, but that was something else. Not even the Brazilians go that far and _they're_ supposed to be the worst!"

As they filed out of the stadium the crowd became increasingly dense. It was not long before Harry and Cho were rubbing shoulders as the people around them began to push and shove to leave the stadium faster. But any annoyance Harry felt over it was quashed when he felt Cho fling her arms around his back and move in close.

Harry twisted his head back and saw Cho's dark eyes staring at him, her soft pink lips curved into a flirty grin. Pole-axed by the look and temporarily unable to move forward thanks to the crowd, Harry felt his body freeze in place.

Cho's lips curved further as she stared at him intently. "You know, I've had so much fun with you today, Harry. My father gave me tickets to see all of the games, but no one was available to see them today. So I figured that today was going to be lonely. But then I met you, and you've been so nice to me, and been such great company, that I think you deserve another reward. One that we'll both enjoy."

Before Harry could reply, Cho closed her eyes and moved her face closer to his own. And when her lips touched his Harry felt his mind explode into a million tiny pieces. All rational thought fled, leaving only the physical sensation of her body touching his.

Cho's lips were soft and tender. They were everything Harry had dreamed about and more, and the way they curved and moulded their shape when pressed against his own was simply divine.

A roaring fire began to rise within Harry's chest as the kiss continued. A burning _need_ to do something more than just passively receive. So he pressed back against her lips with his own, moving them gently as he fumbled his way forward with half-remembered instructions from Sirius. Harry knew that he was doing something right when he felt her sigh into him. He also heard the sound of a notification from the Game going off, most likely the quest for Cho being completed, but the Game and everything other than the girl currently kissing him was far from Harry's mind.

He had no clue how long they stayed like that, but Harry would have traded every Galleon in his family vault to have stayed that way forever. And when they came back together for another kiss, with more force and greater intensity, Harry felt his mind explode for a second time in a row. The most coherent thought remaining was that if this is what kissing was like then it was no wonder that the older boys kept chasing all of the girls. Lost in a haze of pleasure, Harry lost track of time as he and Cho continued to trade kisses.

When he eventually came to and looked around, Harry realized that they had somehow made their way back to the stadium's entrance. The previously thick crowd had dissipated, leaving the two of them with some semblance of privacy as they held each other close and basked in the lingering warmth of their kisses.

Eventually, it was Cho who decided to end things for the day. The dark-haired girl pulled back from Harry and patted him gently on the cheek. "Thanks for the great day, Harry. I… I guess that I'll see you around. Take care of yourself."

Harry thought that he said goodbye to her, and maybe something about enjoying her company, because the Asian beauty smiled at him and gave him a peck on his cheek in reply. Then the girl moved away, her slim form disappearing into the moving traffic while he stood still and watched.

* * *

Harry had no idea how long it took before he could muster the energy to move from his spot. Kissing Cho had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. And given how wonderful it had felt Harry fervently hoped that the Game would continue to issue similar quests should he happen to meet Cho once again.

**Quest Alert Notification**

**You Gotta Kiss The Girl**

**You Have Met Cho Chang at the Quidditch World Cup**

**Woo Her Right and You've Got a Shot at Earning Her Favour**

**Progress:**

**Complete**

**You Got A Kiss (and More) From the Asian Beauty Cho Chang**

Still feeling dazed, Harry read through the notification as he slowly made his way to Sirius' private booth. When he made it there both Sirius and Remus had taken one look at Harry's face and asked who the lucky girl had been. Harry had squirmed on the spot and thanked his lucky stars that Remus did not seem to be the sort of teacher to listen to Hogwarts gossip. In the end Harry was only able to dodge their questions on the subject by talking about his duel and the games he had seen.

Their grim response to his words came as a surprise, one that knocked Harry back down to Earth. Sirius' annoyance at learning how Harry had dodged Dora came as no surprise, but their conjectures regarding the matches Harry had seen were rather worrying.

Harry looked between them as he sat down in a cushy chair. "You think that the Imperius Curse was used during the two matches I saw? And that the French player who clubbed the British bloke is actually innocent?"

Remus nodded. "Yes. The amount of time that an Imperius Curse will work, and the range at which someone can cast it, varies greatly. Much of it depends on the castor's strength and the strength of the one the Imperius is cast upon, but there are other variables which can come into play that can make the curse hard to predict and understand."

"I've heard that the Goblins have a way around it and that the Ministry's Unspeakable's made some progress on a counter during the war against the dark tosser, but nothing more," Sirius added. His usually cheerful face seemed haunted, the topic of Azkaban no doubt bringing up uncomfortable memories. "The way you described the match between Bulgaria and Finland, Harry, would fit the description as well. Bulgaria's second half comeback seemed to be the result of the Fins completely falling apart. Two or more people under the Imperius Curse, who were ordered to play sloppily, would explain it quite neatly."

"Ugh! We should have considered that as a possibility back when you first told me about it." Harry said darkly. His brain was back from its extended vacation in the land of kisses and Harry was rather mad at himself for having missed out on the signs. Another thing that the older boys at Hogwarts often said, which was that women clouded the mind, also seemed to be true. As otherwise Harry felt that he would have picked up on the signs without needing Remus and Sirius to point them out to him.

"We did, Harry, but the plain truth of the matter is that it's impossible to know that the Imperius has been cast unless someone witnesses it." Remus' hard tone resembled that of the one he would use in class whenever students were getting too noisy. "It's one of the reasons why Sirius and I have been following Malfoy and the rest so closely, and is quite probably the reason why you were unable to locate Morgan until late in the match."

"And since they've proven that they can get around us, we need to come up with a different strategy. Or bring more people in on it, but I'd rather not risk letting Harry's secret out to more people." Sirius gave a snort as he began to pace. "While we could probably figure out a way to convince Dora and 'Dromeda to help us that would not arouse their suspicions, bringing in people like Mad Eye or McGonagall would be too much of a risk."

Remus suggested a few other possible names as well as a few possible cover stories they could use, but every name and idea he brought up was dashed by Harry's godfather. Meanwhile, Harry frowned to himself as he considered their situation and any options he could think of to turn things around. Because as things currently stood Lucius' plan was going to succeed. And that was not acceptable.

Harry doubted that the Goblins would be of any help to them in stopping the Imperius Curse, not after he considered about their long list of grievances against wizard-kind. And Dumbledore's earlier message had already made it clear that neither the ancient wizard nor the Ministry would be providing any assistance in this matter either. The Game of Death had also been unusually quiet of late as well, aside from the quests concerning Dora and Cho.

After doing his best to come up with something, Harry tried to think of what Hermione might say if she were around. And after a few minutes of trying to place himself in her shoes he thought that he had the beginning of an idea. But before Harry stated it he felt that he needed a few more pieces of information in order to complete it.

Harry raised his head and looked at Remus. "Let's go back to the beginning. If using the spell could land them in Azkaban, then why do it in the first place? It's not like fixing the matches will threaten anyone's lives, right? Which is what the Game's quest would seem to think is their ultimate goal."

"Right, Harry," Remus replied softly. "But in case you forgot, the motive of the third person at the meeting you saw was to fix matches. My best guess is that this third person is either someone on one of the teams or is someone who's made a few bets that are in need of assistance."

"But if that's the case, then what would happen if we ruin their plan not by catching them, but by rendering their successes meaningless?

Remus and Sirius exchanged confused glances.

"Sorry kiddo, but you've lost us," Sirius said. "What you mean by making their efforts useless? How can we do that?"

Harry stood up so that he could better use his hands to gesture as he spoke. "I'm not exactly sure myself, but here's the bottom line: we know _what_ they want to do, we think that we know _how_ they are trying to do it, and we've reached the conclusion that it is unlikely we will stop them from succeeding. So rather than having us keep trying to do something that is bound to fail, why don't we just try to reverse what they've already done?"

Sirius gave a slow nod. "Ah. You mean, have us find a way to turn their success into failure. It's a good idea. One that could certainly be more effective than continuing to chase their shadows all over the place."

"And one of the best ways to foil or hurt a plan is to counter it in a way that your opponent does not expect. Which just might happen if we are able to succeed." Remus said, his voice once again professorial. "But the question then becomes how can we make this plan succeed? It's impossible to change the results of the Bulgarian match, and the English Seeker has already received the best care that magical remedies can provide. Beyond those two cases we have no idea what other actions they have taken, which leaves us with a rather thin number of cases we can attempt to reverse."

Harry paused. He had not gotten quite that far yet and Remus did have a point; none of them were brilliant healers and they could not turn back time to change the results of the already finished games. Still, Harry felt that he was close to hitting upon a solution. So close that he could almost taste it. And after pacing about for a full minute while Remus and Sirius argued over other possible examples of Death Eater interference, Harry hit upon a crazy idea that just might work.

A soft and slow ding rang out in Harry's mind as the Game of Death issued a quest in confirmation of his thoughts.

**Ding!**

**Quest Alert Notification**

**I, Seeker**

**The English National Team is in Need of a New Seeker**

**Join the Squad and Take The Team to Victory**

**The More Wins you Get the Larger your Reward Becomes**

**Ties in with the 'Attack on the World Cup' Quest**

**Quest Rewards:**

**Upgrade Trait to Professional Quidditch Player**

**10,000 Galleons Per Win**

**International Fame Increases Per Game Played**

**New Information on the 'Attack on the World Cup' Quest if in the Championship Game**

**Please Select**

**Yes or No**

Neither of the two men next to him were going to be pleased, but after the events of the past week there was no way that Harry would allow either one of them to stop him from pursuing this new quest. Not when he even knew how to go about setting it into motion in a way that was certain to succeed and raise zero warning flags along the way.

**A/N:** And thus I get to reveal another part of my own spin on the Quidditch Cup with this quest. One that I am sure has been done before but have never encountered in a fan fic myself. Gosh have I been looking forward to revealing it.

I hope that everyone enjoyed the chapter. The parts with Cho were supposed to be in direct contrast to both canon Harry and when he first encountered Cho back in chapter 11. Canon Harry always seemed to wilt when it came time to step up to the plate and actually do something in regards to romance (that does happen in real life, quite often, but a little bit of the opposite happening to balance things out would have been nice). My Harry will remain mostly shy and bashful (and _oblivious_) when it comes to girls for quite a while to come, but that has slowly begun to change.

On a separate note the continuing edit of my prior chapters is now through chapter 11. And while I have been careful not to remove any vital pieces of information, I _have_ done quite a bit of trimming. Much of the earlier chapters (especially chapter 11) were a little on the unnecessarily wordy side. So I made it a point to trim any unnecessary exposition or character introspection, increase direct characterization (dialogue and whatnot), and add a few more Game references while I was at it. Especially to chapter 25, which I did a brief look through after a reader caught an error on my part. Hopefully that has improved the story's flow and made it easier for new readers – and those who like to re-read a story – to make their way through the early parts and get to the fun, later bits.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	30. Chapter 29: Joining the Team

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Joining the Team**

"_Je comprends pas pourquoi ça a merdé_!_" _Fleur swore like a sailor as Gabrielle pulled her upright. The healers had take care of the major physical and magical wounds which had been inflicted upon Fleur before waking her, but Fleur's body still ached all over from the lesser injures that had gone untreated. Her clothes were soaked in both vomit and sweat, while the coppery tang of fresh blood still filled Fleur's nose from when the woman's brutish fist had smashed into it.

The perfectly manicured figure Fleur usually maintained was nowhere to be seen, though its absence was but the smallest issue currently weighing on her mind. Not after the complete and utter defeat that had been the third and final match between her and that barbaric pink-haired woman.

"Well, I would say zat it began when you decided to duel ze woman. Zen it got worse when you beat 'er so easily in your first match and taunted her over it, and finished after 'er lover blew you zose kisses after ze woman beat you in ze second match; she did not seem to like zat very much." Gabrielle's oddly cheerful voice pierced through Fleur's anger as the younger girl helped Fleur to regain her balance on wobbly legs. "I 'ave to say, zough, zat ze woman was _most_ impressive. I 'ave never seen anyone beat you in a duel before, let alone in such a devastating manner."

"_Gabi_!" Fleur hissed at her little sister in annoyance. Just because Gabrielle's words paralleled her own thoughts did not mean that Fleur wished to hear them spoken aloud.

"What? It is ze truth, ma souer," Gabrielle replied flippantly. Unlike Fleur, Gabrielle's accent when speaking English had made noticeable strides during the summer, as had her command of the language as a whole. "We both know zat maman will be even harsher to you when she learns of what 'as 'appened today. Is it not better to acknowledge ze wound to your pride now zan to 'ave it destroyed later?"

Fleur hung her head at her younger sister's mild rebuke. Gabrielle was right. Of all the wounds which had been inflicted upon her in the duelling ring, it was the wound to her pride which stung Fleur the most. Being beaten by a superior opponent was one thing. But being beaten by a superior opponent because you carelessly antagonized them was entirely different, as Appolline had stated more than once to both of her daughters.

"'ere 'as zat wooman gone?" Fleur asked as her sister assisted Fleur in leaving the ring. The road to improving herself after this fight would be long, and obtaining a greater mastery over the uncouth language of the woman who had beaten her could be considered a part of the journey. "I wood like to speak weez 'er so zat I may learn 'er name."

Despite having three matches in a row, neither woman had given the other their name. A feeling of tension had sparked between them from the instant they had lain eyes upon the other which had resulted in both women discarding the usual formalities present at the beginning of most duels.

"Ze last I saw of 'er, ze woman – 'ose name is Nymphadora Tonks – was headed out with 'er lover. Ze two of zem seemed to be in quite ze heated discussion and I would assume zat zey are long gone."

Fleur nodded and made sure to memorize the woman's name. "Very well. Zen let us return to maman's tent. I weel speak to 'er about what 'as 'appened today before she can 'ear oof eet from ze mouzs oof ozzers."

"A good idea, ma souer. If it 'elps, I learned from ze woman's lover, 'Estia, zat ze two of zem are recent graduates of zis country's Auror program, and zat Nymphadora is considered to be somezing of a prodigy."

Hearing that titbit took some of the sting out of Fleur's defeat. As thanks for the information and for helping her walk out of the ring, Fleur drew her sister in for a hug. "Zank you for 'elping me, Gabi. You are ze best leetle seester I could ever 'ope to 'ave."

"I know. But you stink, ma souer, so please stop hugging me until after you 'ave taken a bath."

Laughing quietly at her sister's comment, Fleur allowed Gabrielle to lead her from the duelling arena and back to their mother's expansive personal tent. As they walked Fleur thought over how she could further increase her personal training regimen. Madame Maxine was already pushing her as it were, but there was still room to do more.

It had been years since Fleur had lost to anyone in a duel, let alone so completely, but today's defeat would not be enough to break her spirit. She would use this experience to temper herself even further and emerge the stronger for it. For that which did not destroy her would only serve to make her more powerful.

* * *

The next morning saw a drowsy Harry standing alongside Ludo Bagman on a damp Quidditch field in the middle of nowhere. Standing in front of them were the six healthy members of the English team. Three men and three women, each of whom displayed varying levels of wakefulness as they stood in a loose line. Whilst Andromeda, dressed in formal robes while standing in as Harry's guardian for the day, stood off to one side, hiding a yawn behind a delicate hand as Ludo began to speak. The man's booming voice rang out across the flat moor as he clasped both hands behind his back.

"Righto chaps, look alive I say! A stiff upper lip in the face of adversity is the mark of a true Quidditch player. You might be down a comrade in arms, but you're still in the game. You're still representing this great, beautiful nation of ours. And if you are the team I believe you to be, then I know that you'll rally to the cause and continue to fight onward! What say you, chaps? Are you with me?"

Harry listened with one ear as the English players gave a lukewarm 'huzzah.' Ludo was giving a speech which could have been ripped straight from the mouth of a primary school coach. The man probably felt that it was stirring and inspirational, especially with the sun rising behind him as he talked, but to Harry the man came off as nothing more than a braggart who had dragged everyone out of their beds at far too early an hour.

The British team seemed to agree with Harry. Half of them visibly tuned the man out as he continued to speak while the other half spent the time yawning and nodding their heads in feigned acknowledgement. Harry found himself yawning as well and hoped that Ludo's narcissistic display would not take too long.

After all the effort it had taken to win over a sceptical Remus and Sirius with his idea and then enlist the aid of Andromeda and Ludo later that evening, it would suck horribly to fail now just because Ludo let his ego get away from him. Harry took advantage of everyone paying attention to Ludo to cast a stealthy Observe on Ludo and each of the Quidditch players. Three people, including Ludo, were too high for the ability to work, but the other four members were within Harry's range.

**Ding!**

**Brian Miller**

**Age in 1993-94: 32**

**Level: 151**

**Stats: **

**STR: 95**

**DEX: 107**

**CON: 90**

**INT: 148**

**WIS: 135**

**CHA: 215**

**Traits:**

**Professional Quidditch Chaser**

**Half-Blood**

**Gullible**

**Vain**

**Annabelle Chase**

**Level: 146**

**Age: 28**

**Stats: **

**STR: 90**

**DEX: 101**

**CON: 88**

**INT: 151**

**WIS: 155**

**CHA: 285**

**Traits:**

**Professional Quidditch Keeper**

**Free Spirit**

**Boy-Who-Lived Fangirl**

**Negotiator**

**Sweet Tooth**

**Malcolm O'Toole**

**Level: 150**

**Age: 43**

**Stats: **

**STR: 96**

**DEX: 111**

**CON: 98**

**INT: 163**

**WIS: 180**

**CHA: 185**

**Traits:**

**Professional Quidditch Chaser**

**Duellist**

**Boy-Who-Lived Fanboy**

**Housekeeper**

**Genevieve Smith**

**Level 138**

**Age: 26**

**Stats: **

**STR: 81**

**DEX: 104**

**CON: 91**

**INT: 162**

**WIS: 275**

**CHA: 145**

**Traits:**

**Professional Quidditch Chaser**

**Duellist**

**Loyal**

**Patient**

Huh. He had guessed as much, but Quidditch players seemed to be significantly more powerful than most normal adults Harry had encountered. They had better traits too, most of which – aside from the two with the 'Boy-Who-Lived Fan' traits – were actually fairly good and seemed to make their bearers more powerful. It would have little to no bearing on Harry's plan, but knowing that the Quidditch team actually had some power to its members would probably make Sirius and Remus worry a little less for Harry's safety.

"But enough of my words, my brave men and women of the sky. I'll give the floor over to the person you must be dying to meet. The one who I set this meeting up to introduce, he who saved our nation from a terrible threat more than ten years ago, our heroic Boy-Who-Lived, Haaaaaaaryyyyy Potter!"

Harry gave a start when he heard his name. He looked up from the Game's notifications and did his best to remember what Ludo had just said. When he did, Harry gave an internal groan. This was the part of the plan he was least looking forward to; being used as an icon and having to make an attempt at being the absurd persona given to him by the British Wizarding world. Something which Harry had tried to avoid like the plague for the last three years of his life.

So rather than giving an impassioned speech like Ludo had done and make an utter mess of things, Harry chose to merely nod his head in encouragement whilst pumping a fist in the team's direction. Hopefully the high charisma the Game of Death said that he had would carry the day.

Scores of crickets chirping in the surrounding grass gave tell to Harry's enormous level of success.

Ludo shot Harry a dirty look before coughing into a clenched fist to regain everyone's attention. "Well, he's, er, a man of few words, but one made of sterling character nonetheless. The ideal image of a stoic Briton if you were to ask me. Now come on up and shake his hand, ladies and gents, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to seek words of wisdom from Britain's youngest hero."

Looking as if they could hardly believe that the person standing before them was actually the much dramatized Boy-Who-Lived, the team made their way over to shake his hand. Thankfully the first person in line was the team's captain, a burly and bluff-faced woman by the name of Bronwen who looked like she could have eaten Harry's old Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, for breakfast.

"Good to meet you, Harry," the woman said as her massive hand enveloped Harry's much smaller one. Her light accent, delightfully delicate for someone who appeared so tough, came as a surprise. "The country owes you and your family a great debt of honour, that it does. I'm glad that you were able to come down to the pitch this mornin' to meet me an' the rest o' the team after what 'appened yesterday."

Harry hid his wince as the woman's firm grip began to crush his hand. Up till now Dora had been the strongest woman that he had previously encountered, but Bronwen's grasp put the Metamorphagus' to shame. "Thank you, ma'am, I appreciate your kind words. And coming here today was the least that I could do; I was in the stands when it happened and saw the whole incident."

That, and Harry suspected that it had been caused through the interference of Dark Wizards in order to pull off a plot to attack the World Cup. But Harry could not say that last bit without any proof and so kept his words to polite pleasantries.

"Yeah. We knew that the French liked to play dirty, but I never expected something like that to happen." The next man in line to shake Harry's hand, the whip thin Brian Miller, was visibly down in the dumps as he spoke. "And it came at the worst possible time too. Our backup Seeker, Drupp Barding Bidgewell Claxton the third, is down with a case of Dragon Pox. He's supposed to make it but is out for the rest of the tournament for sure. If that damn bastard Hardwin can't play in tomorrow's game, then I don't know who the hell we'll ever get to play the position in time."

"Och! Don't ye worry now m'ah friend. Somethin' will turn up eventually or m'ah name ain't being Alistaire MacLeod." The third man to shake Harry's hand, one of the team's big beaters alongside the captain, spoke in a cheerful Scottish brogue. "Why, ye should hear tell o' some of the things that happened in m'ah family years back. Compared to dem, why, this little hiccup ain't even a wee bit o' trouble. No little Frenchman's bat will keep us'n from winning this tournament or ah'll eat m'ah last pair o' pants."

The rest of the team shook Harry's hand in turn – or, in the case of Annabelle, kissed him on both sides of the face while she hugged him tightly – as they began to argue amongst themselves as to what they could do to turn their fortunes around. Some advocated for holding try-outs to find a new Seeker. Others held out hope that Hardwin, the team's injured Seeker, would make a turnaround and be healthy in time for the game. Whichever scenario were to occur, however, it seemed as though the team was bitterly divided on the subject; it was the sort of thing which, in Harry's sporting experience, could drive a wedge between the members and cause everything to fall apart.

Sensing his chance, Harry caught Ludo's eye and gave him the pre-arranged signal. The man caught it right away and hurried to insert himself into the conversation.

"Now now, ladies and gents, I understand that this is a tough time for the team," Ludo said as he stepped towards the players. The man placed an affable arm around the shoulders of one of the Chasers, a tiny little slip of a woman named Genevieve, as he spoke. "But if I may be so bold to say I think that the solution to your problem is right in front of you."

Bronwen's face hardened as the team captain looked to prepare herself for a confrontation. "With all due respect, Mr. Bagman –"

"Ludo, please, my dear lady. All my friends can call me that."

"As I was saying. Mr. Bagman, I thank you for your advice and for bringing Mr. Potter to come greet us today, but I would respectfully ask that you leave team matters to those who are still on the team. I would prefer to avoid any untoward rumours regarding any intervention that you or the Department of Magical Sports and Games might take on our behalf."

"Ha! I completely understand, my dear. I would never do such a thing; it would go against the very meaning of fair play and good sportsmanship."

Ludo's response seemed to confuse the tough woman. The man's good cheer and his immediate refutation of her implication had not been what she expected. Harry saw Bronwen's brow tighten and her eyes narrow as the team captain tried to pin Ludo with a glare. "Then what _are_ you suggesting, Mr. Bagman?"

"Why, only what would seem to be a most logical course of action." Ludo gestured emphatically with his free arm as he spoke. "The team needs a Seeker. One who can keep them in the game or maybe even win it for them outright. But because of the limited time you have to find a replacement you are unsure if you can do it. Right?"

Bronwen slowly nodded in her head. "That's correct. But that's a team matter and I don't see what that has to do with you or anyone else here."

"Then you, my dear, need to pay more attention to school level games like I do," Ludo said with a wink. He then gestured dramatically and pointed back at Harry. "Because if you are looking for a great Seeker on short notice, then look no further! Harry Potter is here and the boy is as dab a hand at this great sport as any other I have ever seen."

Bronwen snorted. "Fat chance, sir. Oh, it's not that I'm doubting the boy's talent; I'm sure that it's high if you are recommending him so strongly. But unless he's on the level of Viktor Krum then there's no way the boy is ready to play at the professional level. I doubt he even knows what the rules are since they still play the watered down version at the school level."

Undaunted, Ludo continued to press Harry's case. "I have it on good authority that he has some experience playing with the professional rules. And while I wouldn't quite call him Krum's equal, I would stake my reputation on Harry having an even greater natural talent. You can test him to make sure, but it will only confirm what I've just told you."

Harry held his breath as he watched Bronwen's eyes turn thoughtful. This was it. The moment of truth had arrived. Desperate and in need of a solution that could salvage their bid to win the Cup, the English captain was finally beginning to consider Ludo's proposal.

The woman turned a critical gaze towards Harry and then looked back at Ludo. "What about the rules regarding under age competitors? Does he meet the requirements?"

Ludo nodded. "Since he's an officially registered member of a school level team, and possesses at least three years of experience, Harry meets the I.C.W.'s regulations on the subject. I had my staff confirm everything last night and as long as I can convince his legal guardian to give the okay – which, considering that Sirius and I go back quite a ways, should be quite easy – then everything will be on the up and up."

"And what about a broom? We don't have the time to train him on the subtleties of how to fly a Firebolt and using anything less will put him at a severe disadvantage."

"Also not an issue. The boy has been flying on a Firebolt for nearly a year and has used it in actual games. Including in that truly nasty storm that nearly derailed the Chudley Cannon's game against Ilkley."

Bronwen nodded. "Hm… yes, I recall that storm. And if he could fly a Firebolt in those conditions…"

The captain fell silent as she considered everything Ludo had told her. She then turned away from him and summoned in the rest of the team for a huddle, casting some sort of charm as she did which made it so that Harry could not hear their voices. Harry felt his chest begin to ache as he tried to will the woman to accept him.

After a few minutes spent huddling Bronwen cancelled the silencing charm and gave Ludo a firm nod. "The team and I agree, Ludo. It couldn't hurt to give the lad a try. Can I count on you to prep him while we get things setup for a test here?"

Ludo laughed as he thumped his chest with a closed fist. "Absolutely! I wouldn't have come up with this idea if I didn't think I could have the boy ready. Give us a few ticks to apparate back to his home so I can convince his guardian while Harry grabs his gear. After which I guarantee that he will pass your test with flying colours."

The bombastic man then turned to Harry and motioned for the boy to join him. The two then walked over to Andromeda who placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. A sudden crack burst into Harry's ears, followed by a feeling like that of toothpaste being squeezed through too small a hole, and then the next thing Harry knew he was standing at the front door to the Cottage.

He stumbled forward, his head discombobulated and his body feeling tingly, before Andromeda caught him; Harry shot the beautiful woman a grateful glance. Magical travel sure was handy in terms of time saved. But gosh did it suck.

A loud crack from beside them heralded the appearance of Ludo Bagman. The man dusted his robes off with a flourish as a look of unadulterated glee filled his features.

"Well, that went even better than we had planned, didn't it my boy?" Ludo said with a chortle. "Bronwen might be a fine team captain, one of the best to play the game, but she knows nothing about how to win the hearts and minds of others. She bought our little performance and seems nary the wiser that it was all an act. I must say that it has been an absolute pleasure working with you on this; I'm so excited that I almost feel like I'm back in the game myself!"

Harry shot the man a wry grin as he opened the Cottage's main door. "Thank you, Mr. Bagman. I appreciate your kind words."

"Ah, it's Ludo to you, Harry, Ludo! As I told Bronwen I like for all of my friends to call me by my first name. And I do hope that after my assistance in this matter, and in the matter of your upcoming duel against Lucius' son, you consider me a friend."

Glad that the man could only see his back, Harry felt himself grimace at the Ludo's words. A part of Harry felt dirty for enlisting the man's assistance in this area, but he had seen little other choice. For all of his bad traits the braggart had been perfectly positioned to carry out Harry's plan. A fact which had been borne out by the events thus far.

"Of course he does, Mr. Bagman," Andromeda filled in smoothly from the rear. "But Harry was raised to be polite while Sirius and I have been teaching him about etiquette in the magical world. The boy is accustomed to speaking more formally than you are used to and only uses first names for those who are closest to him. I'm sure that you can understand."

"Ah, yes. I believe that I understand your point, Chairwoman Tonks, though I do hope that I will be forgiven for using the boy's own name so familiarly."

Interestingly enough it seemed that Andromeda was the one person Ludo did not try to charm. A fact which Harry attributed to the woman's stern look and reputation; were it not for her close relationship with Sirius, Harry felt that he too would have been intimidated by her. Let alone when, as today, Andromeda had donned full formal robes and done her long brown hair up in a way that only accentuated her beauty. It gave her the appearance of a severe judge that one should not offend lest they end up with their head on the chopping block.

"It is of no concern," Andromeda replied crisply. "Now, while Harry runs off to grab his gear from his room, why don't you and I have a little talk in the kitchen? I believe that you wanted to spin the story of today's events in a certain manner and I would be happy to take down some notes on the subject while we wait."

Harry gave a silent blessing to Andromeda for making up that bit about him being a stickler for politeness as she ran interference. Ludo bit on her offer and Harry could soon hear the man's voice raise in pitch as he began to weave the story of how this was all to be attributed to him and his exceptional eye for talent.

Allowing the man to spin that story in the press had been the price for his involvement and Andromeda had been kind enough to offer the Daily Prophet's services. Not for the first time did Harry thank whichever deity that had brought her and Dora into his life, because without Andromeda's assistance in this matter things could have gotten very tricky.

Harry breezed into his room and made a beeline to the maintenance table that held his broom. He had worked on it the night before to make sure that it was in top condition; the broom's ebony handle gleamed after the recent polish Harry had given it. He made sure to grab it and bring along the practice gear Sirius had purchased for him as well. He would much preferred to have just stored the items in his Inventory, but taking them back out later on would have required an explanation that Harry was not yet ready to give to anyone outside of his most trusted circle of friends. Let alone a gormless git like Bagman who would probably sell Harry's secrets at the slightest hint of trouble or personal profit.

When Harry made his way back to Andromeda and Ludo, he found the two of them locked in conversation. They wrapped things up on their end, both of them wearing pleased smiles, and with a swift apparition all three were soon back at the English team's practice field.

Where Harry proceeded to pass Bronwen's test with flying colours and cause his new teammates to whoop in joy over his performance. After which the players buckled down as they had less than a week to get Harry up to speed before the team's next game.

It was long after nightfall that Harry was able to stumble to his room, pen some short letters to Hermione and a few of his other friends like Ginny and Ron, before then crawling into the sweet embrace of his comfortable bed. Where his dreams were filled with the face of Cho and many other girls, each of whom proceeded to kiss him as Harry hoisted high the Quidditch World Cup.

By the time he woke up the next day Harry felt refreshed and revitalized. Which was perfect, as today would be the day that he finally showed Draco Malfoy which one of them was the better wizard once and for all.

**A/N:** That's all for now, folks. Due to the heavy interest in seeing the Dora vs Fleur scene I strongly considered putting it into this chapter, but in the end I just could not swing it. Not with Harry's duel against Draco right around the corner. I hope that Fleur's after-action report will suffice for the time being.

But fear not, for it shall be posted as a one-shot somewhere down the road.

Meanwhile I recently saw Epic Rap Battles of History's video of J.R.R. Tolkien vs. George R.R. Martin; go check it out on YouTube if you haven't done so already. It is absolutely _brilliant_ and I recommend it to anyone who enjoys either author.

Until Next Time,

Elsil


	31. Chapter 30: Before the Duel

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Thirty: Before the Duel**

Lucius Malfoy stared intently as he watched Draco run through a drill. Designed to test a wizard's speed and reaction time, the goal was to knock down a series of orbs which floated in a circle around the duellist. The orbs shifted through various colours as they wove patterns in the air. Only spells from corresponding schools of magic could be used to deactivate each colour, while using a spell from the wrong school could elicit a wide variety of different reactions.

Thus far Lucius had seen nearly every single one of those different reactions. A fact which gave him no small amount of consternation.

Draco's spells lanced out to hit his targets with impressive ferocity and power, but more often than not they ended up splashing uselessly against the ensorcelled objects or causing literal sparks to fly in the air. Some spells even ricocheted back at the boy and forced him to dodge with a yelp or a muttered curse. A sight which invariably caused a tic to twitch from within Lucius' left cheek.

Eyeing his son and heir over steepled fingers, Lucius studied his son intently. He ran his mind through the various permutations and compared them to what his informants had told him of Potters exploits in the Cup's duelling tent. The conclusion Lucius reached was not pleasant.

All signs would seem to point to Draco's inevitable defeat. Unless the Potter boy suffered an accident – and Lucius' resources in that area were all but tapped out after having already been employed against the backup members of several Quidditch teams in the Cup – then even the success of the ritual would not be enough to overcome Potter's incredible increase of power and skill over the summer.

That left Lucius to consider whether he should employ his final option. One that he had not wished to use due to the damage it could cause to Draco's self-confidence. But the future of House Malfoy's ambitions – of Lucius' ambitions –and the possible damage to them that a public loss to Potter could entail outweighed such concerns.

Lucius steeled himself and made the decision. He just hoped that Yaxley and Morgan would be up to the task. Because if they failed and were discovered it could impact Lucius' master plan and mean the end of everything he had worked so long and hard to accomplish since the Dark Lord's fall.

With a languid wave of his wand Lucius ended the training session. He pulled an ornate brooch from the pockets of his robe and walked over to wear his son stood panting. Draco looked up at him, the boy's sweat laden face flinching as he saw the look of disappointment in his father's eyes. Lucius tried to not let it bother him overmuch, yet even his iron-clad will could not help but feel a twinge of sadness at what he was about to do.

For the sake of victory all options would be used. No matter the cost.

* * *

**Ding!**

**Mandatory Quest Alert Notification**

**The "Beat the Brat" Quest has been Changed to "Defeat the Cheat"**

**Lucius Malfoy has Employed a Way to Cheat During your Duel Against his Son**

**Now Ties in with the 'Attack on the World Cup' Quest**

**Defeat Draco or the One Controlling Him in order to Complete the Quest**

**Quest Reward:**

**10 Levels**

**Mystery Reward for Achieving Either a Perfect or Excellent Completion**

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore aloud as the Game's notification popped up while he was in the middle of dodging a bludger. The distraction proved a costly one when an enchanted piece of iron slammed into Harry's shoulder. It hit with enough velocity to spin him around mid-air and force Harry to battle for control of his broom, all while the insistent dings of an unread Game notification blared in his head.

By the time Harry managed to arrest his momentum he was so close to the ground that he decided to float the rest of the way. The instant his toes touched the ground, Harry let go of his broom and plopped his aching body on top of the deliciously soft grass.

"Ach! Cap'n, I think th' lad needs a break. That bludger nary would o' hit 'im if th' lad had been concentrat'n. We've been pushin 'im hard all mornin'." Alistair's voice sounded from above Harry's head. "Besides, th' lad has a big duel innae few hours. There's no need ta bruise him too badly beforehand."

Captain Bronwen gave a sigh as she flew into Harry's sight. "You're right Alistair. And when you're right, you're right. The rest of practice can be devoted to working on honing our Chaser formations and running some scoring drills on Annabelle." The burly woman swivelled on her broom to give Harry a curt nod. "Alright Harry, you've done well enough for today. Pack up your things and get on home so that you can rest up before your duel. Make sure to win it too; I don't want any rumours flying around that you're a second-rate wizard who can't beat some Pureblood fop. Not when I know better, y'hear?"

A feeling of immense gratitude welled up from within him as Harry nodded from his spot sprawled along the ground. That last bludger hit had done a number on him and he really could use some rest before his duel. "Aye aye, captain."

"Good. Alistair, with me. I've a few ideas for the Chaser drills that I want to run by you before we get started."

Left alone for a blissfully free moment as the two beaters flew off, Harry was finally able to select the Game's notification. A quick tap ended the constant dings. The resulting silence was a blessing and allowed him to study the Game's most recent quest.

From the wording of the quest Harry gathered that someone, whether it was Lucius or one of the man's cronies, would be controlling Draco during the duel. That might cause a minor problem, since whomever was chosen would probably be an expert duellist with far more experience than Harry, but Harry had confidence in himself. He had grown in both power and skill over the summer, to the point that he felt there was no way that Draco's terrible stats would allow the boy to beat Harry even with someone else's assistance.

Besides, Lucius Malfoy not playing fair was anything but new. Harry and the others had already anticipated as much and had already taken precautions, setting up plan after backup plan just in case their first one did not work out. So despite the quest's somewhat sinister wording and increased reward, Harry put it to the back of his mind. As far as Harry was concerned, Lucius' little trick could very well end up playing right into their hands and enable Harry to finish two quests in one go.

After resting for a few more minutes Harry hopped back onto his broom and made his way over to the team's facilities. There he took a blistering hot shower that rid his body of the remaining aches that practice had given him and changed into a fresh pair of stylish green and gold wizard robes. After which Harry emerged from the facility and made his way over to where Andromeda stood waiting to take him home.

* * *

Dora growled to herself as she stalked around the duelling tent. Remus and Sirius had asked her to patrol the area and look out for anything suspicious while the two of them went over the Duelling Ring with a fine-toothed comb. Her status as a newly minted Auror, combined with Remus' status as a Hogwarts professor, had allowed them to do some checks on the ring's protections before the duel started. But professional courtesy only went so far and there were several people from the duelling emporium watching their every action. It was Dora's job to keep an eye on them and anyone else who appeared while Remus and Sirius did their work.

But Dora could feel that her heart was no longer in this volunteer assignment due to recent events. She could feel her control over her powers slipping, undoubtedly causing her hair to cycle through various hues of angry colours. Even with the lack of a crowd due to the need to setup everything, being back in the tent was like rubbing salt on an open wound. Dora could feel her still seething fury at having lost to that strumpet of a girl in serious danger of boiling over.

"Oh hey darling, look at what Remus is doing. I've never seen someone use Nordic runic structures in conjunction with Charms like that; rather than setting them side by side or entwining them, he's overlaying them on top of one another. Huh. I'll bet that doubles or triples the efficiency of the entire structure when compared to the more traditional methods. Though it's _got_ to have some side effects, like being more delicate or prone to collapse."

Hestia's bubbly tone rattled through Dora's head as the busty girl skipped along at Dora's side. Wearing a high collared shirt under her robes to hide the hickies Dora had left on her earlier, Hestia's eyes roved around the tent as she observed everything in good humour. "Do you think it's something we can bring up to Kingsley or Moody next time we're at HQ? I'd bet even they'd be interested in it given how outdated some of the Ministry's approved methods are."

Dora shot her lover a glare and kept her mouth firmly shut. One of her mother's oft repeated refrains had been that unless you had something nice to say it was better to say nothing at all. And though Dora generally liked thumbing her nose at anything that even remotely smacked of upper crust nonsense, in this case she was doing her best to adhere to her mother's advice.

"Awwww, c'mon honey, are you still sulking about not being able to match Harry's record? In that last duel you beat the scrumptious little tart to the point that she vomited all over herself. By the time you were through with her the girl looked as though she had tried and failed to fight off a charging Hippogryph. Doesn't that make up for things even a little?"

Hestia's words poked Dora's sore spot with all the gentleness of a Giant poking a soufflé. It made her back straighten and her muscles tense further as anger bubbled deep within her heart.

"No!" Dora spat out. "Not even a bit!"

"Then what about all the sex we had in the last few days?" Hestia inquired. "Did that help? We didn't stop until well past midnight that first night. And yesterday you hardly allowed me to even leave the bed! My arse probably has the imprint of your hand permanently seared into it."

A little of Dora's tension faded away upon hearing those words. Her own loin still ached from the recent abuse she had heaped upon it. As did her sore nipples. Hestia had been wonderfully enthusiastic the past few days, while Dora had possessed more stamina during than she could ever recall herself possessing. But not even ploughing the raven-haired woman into the sheets in screaming orgasm after screaming orgasm had been enough to quell the unbridled anger that still dwelled within Dora's heart.

Every fibre of Dora's being was angry. Angry at the French girl for successfully taunting her. Angry at Hestia for blatantly flirting with the girl in the middle of Dora's duel. Angry at herself for being overconfident and not taking her opponent seriously. The latter of which made her even angrier as Dora knew how disappointed Moody would be in her if he ever found out about her enormous lapse in vigilance; the old man had taught Dora to be on alert at all times and to always take her opponents seriously.

It was also a family thing which, according to her mother, was common amongst Black women. With example A being Dora's crazy aunt, Bellatrix, whose competitive and vengeful streaks had been so wide that the woman would spend months taking a slow, steady vengeance upon any she felt who had wronged her. But the only hint Dora gave Hestia as to the thoughts swirling through her brain, though, was a simple grunted reply. "A little. But not enough."

Which was the honest to God truth. Having copious amounts of sex with her gorgeous girlfriend had taken the edge away from Dora's feelings of self-loathing, but had ultimately done little to dissipate it.

Hestia stopped and stared at Dora in open-mouthed shock. "_Seriously_?"

"Yes. Seriously." Dora stated in clipped tones. She said what she meant and meant what she said. Just because she liked to play the fool at times did not mean otherwise.

"Wow. Just… wow. That sort of hurts, you know?" Hestia actually did look hurt. The woman's face was scrunched up and she was looking at Dora with wondering eyes. "And if it wasn't making you feeling any better, then why did you make love to me for so long?"

Dora gave a harsh snort. "Because it felt good. And when I held you in my arms I could forget about my anger."

"Oh. I see." Hestia's pretty grey eyes clouded over as she mumbled her reply. The woman's shoulders sagged a bit while her luscious lips pulled into a taut frown.

Dora shot her girlfriend a questioning look. Those words, said in that manner, rarely meant anything good when coming from a woman. _Any_ woman, herself included. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I finally understand why you wanted to be Mad Eye's apprentice so badly. And why Mad Eye accepted you after he turned everyone else down." Hestia raised her head to look Dora square in the eye. "The two of you are broken in the same way. And I doubt that either one of you can ever be fixed."

* * *

High up in the air, Wormtail skittered along a wooden beam in his rat form. His sharp claws dug into the wood, allowing him to scrabble and climb to a place where no normal magic user could reach without using some sort of flying tool. He eventually came to a halt when he reached a vantage point from which he could observe the coming event and record it for his Lord and Master.

Pensieves could be such useful tools. Wormtail had been elated to have obtained one a recent foray. He had nearly danced with glee upon realizing his good fortune. With a Pensieve at their disposal his Lord and Master would no longer need to rip information from Wormtail's mind, thereby saving Wormtail the excruciating pain such methods brought. Or so he hoped.

After looking around at the people below and finding no threats, Wormtail settled in to watch his former friends. Remus and Sirius were pouring over the Emporium's floating Duelling Ring, the tips of their wands flashing as they cast silent spells and scribbled down sequences of Ancient Runes. From the looks of it the pair were attempting to determine whether Lucius had placed any traps in or around the ring.

It was a good idea, but one which would ultimately prove fruitless. Wormtail was familiar the details of Lucius' plan and knew that it did not rely on anything so difficult as sneaking a spell past the duelling Emporium's strict wards. For all of his many faults Lucius knew how to lay a scheme. And for all their many strengths, Remus and Sirius had never been been the best when it came to unravelling such schemes.

It was a classic case of two Gryffindors playing a game of cards against a Slytherin. The Gryffindors might get lucky and gather winning hand after winning hand, but they would fall for so many bluffs and feints that they usually ended up losing more than they won.

Still, watching them waste their efforts was as good a way as any for Wormtail to pass the time. So the transformed Animagus rested his head upon his front paws as his beady little eyes followed their every movement.

* * *

"_WHAT_?"

Dora's furious shriek caused Sirius to jump into the air. He looked at where his younger cousin stood with her girlfriend, fearing that one of them had triggered some Dark spell in the middle of their own search. But upon seeing the expressions on the faces of both women Sirius immediately turned his head and looked away.

There was no Dark magic at work. Of that Sirius was absolutely certain.

No, the alarm bells currently ringing in his head were warning of a completely different danger. One that no amount of spells or quick talking could save Sirius from weathering if he stayed in his current position. So after a quick look at his work to double check that his task was complete, Sirius made his way out of the danger zone as speedily as was humanly possible. He power walked over to the far side of the floating stone ring where Remus was finishing up his own work.

When he made it to Remus' position, out of sight and on the far side of the tent from the two women, Sirius cleared his throat and tried to engage his friend in conversation. "So, uh, mate, how goes it over here?"

Remus shot Sirius a dour look. "I'm nearly done, actually. Just finishing the final bit of spellwork now. But I see that you remain as lion-hearted in the face of a woman's wrath as ever."

Sirius glowered at having been seen through so easily. "Hey! I'll have you know that running away in this sort of situation is a time-honoured tradition. One that has allowed the males of our species to survive what anyone with even a _lick_ of common sense would term 'mortal peril'. Without it you wouldn't even be alive, so don't you dare knock it!"

"Uh huh. And what happens after you return from running away?"

"If it's not directed at you?" Sirius thought the question over carefully. "Generally nothing. But if it is directed at you… then bad things, usually, but nothing that a potion or three can't fix."

"Riiiiiiight," Remus drawled. "Well, your gallantry in the face of feminine danger aside, I think that I'm done here. Let's go over to Dora's area and finish things up. Andromeda just messaged that she and Harry have returned to the Cottage ahead of schedule and I would like to have things wrapped up on our end before they arrive."

Turning his head to look as they walked, Sirius saw that the two ladies had gone off to a secluded corner. In the time since he had last seen them Dora's face had reddened quite a bit. Meanwhile, Hestia's expression looked increasingly stony and the dark-haired woman had crossed her arms under her enormous breasts. All of which only made the warning bells ring ever louder within the back of Sirius' brain.

Nope. No way. He was not going near that area even if Dumbledore himself were to ask. Not when Dora was doing her best impression of an angry Lily, down to the flashing green eyes and flame red hair.

With his life on the line, Sirius turned to Remus and pulled out his greatest weapon. One that had rarely failed to succeed since the day they had first met so many years ago.

Puppy Dog eyes.

Remus took one look at Sirius' expression and rolled his eyes in return. "Dammit, Sirius, stop that! This is why you're utter rubbish when it comes to having a steady relationship. What're you going to do when Harry and Hermione finally get together and the boy comes to you for relationship advice? Tell him to fuck the girl into a mind-numbing haze of pleasure when she's sad and to run away when she's mad?"

Sirius broke his Puppy Eyes assault to nod vigorously. "Damn straight I will. Don't knock my brilliant methods just because your own are lacking. I gave that same advice to James and look at how well it turned out for him!"

"Nice try, Padfoot, but we both know that Lily was usually the one dragging James into the bedroom and not the other way around," Remus pointed out much to Sirius' chagrin. In his haste to prove his point Sirius had forgotten about that little titbit of relevant information. "And while James _probably_ could have escaped from her if they were to ever fight with wands, the man had enough sense to know that getting to that point would have permanently ended things between them. So your advice fails on both counts."

"Then what about his relationships with Morwena, Isabella, Felicienne and Bellatrix? Huh? If not for my advice with them James would never have survived to so much as date Lily!"

"None of them – _especially_ that disastrous attempt with Bellatrix – had so much as a snowballs chance in hell of surviving in the first place. Any advice other than 'never go near any of them' was flawed from the beginning. Which brings me back to my point that your advice when it comes to romantic relationships – of _any_ sort – is pants!"

"Now you're just being jealous, Moony," Sirius said as he gesticulated wildly. From the clear annoyance in the other man's voice during that last response, Remus was close to cracking. Which in turn meant that the more outrageous Sirius acted, the more likely he was to escape the storm of feminine wrath building nearby. "Bellatrix might've had a few screws loose even back then, but she was _hot_, and a total firecracker in bed from what James told me. And a guy can forgive a lot when a girl is willing to do the things she did for James."

"Maybe so, but _you_ weren't the one who had to hide James in an abandoned classroom when he was running away from her through the castle's hallways _stark naked and_ _half-covered in candle wax_!"

"Don't over exaggerate. From what I heard it was only James' chest and shoulders that had the candle wax on it. His lower half was completely fine except for his arse."

"_That's not my point you moronic nitwit_!" Remus roared as he grabbed Sirius' collar and shook him violently. The next few minutes were spent arguing back and forth until a frustrated Remus finally gave up and told Sirius that he would handle the rest of the duties in the tent so long as Sirius allowed him to work in peace. Goal accomplished Sirius then made a beeline for his next assignment, happy beyond belief that it would take him out of the tent.

He made his move not a moment too soon. Dora's voice rose in anger the moment Sirius passed the underpaid wizards tasked with stopping the anxious crowd of folks from entering the tent. Flush with relief, Sirius made sure to give the crowd a confident wink and flash a roguish smile at some of the prettier witches. Then he made his way over to where Ludo was speaking to a gaggle of reporters and thanked the powers that be that he would only have to guard the man against the possible machinations of Dark Wizards rather than from the wrath of an angry woman.

Still, Remus' initial point lingered in Sirius' mind. When there was time, Sirius would definitely need to sit Harry down and have another talk with the boy about the dangers of the fairer sex. Dark Wizards and their schemes were hazardous to ones health, and scarily common in the young boy's life, but women were trouble of a different sort that came in every stripe and colour imaginable. The sooner Sirius was able to teach that to Harry, and how the boy could recognize when said trouble was reaching dangerous levels, the better off the boy would be.

* * *

_"When speaking of the __C__hosen __O__nes it is vital to know __the source of__ their power. Those who receive gifts from the same deity often exhibit similar behaviour to one another and seem to possess many of the same strengths and weaknesses, as is perhaps best exemplified by Athena's gifts to Socrates and Heraclitus. It is this scholar's belief that a study of those who came before could help guide any future __C__hosen __O__nes from making the same mistakes as their predecessors, and in so doing spare the lives of many who would otherwise be hewn like wheat at the harvest."_

"Hermione! Come along. If we don't hurry, then we'll miss our flight."

Hermione raised her head from the massive book held open in her lap. "I'm coming mum! Just, give me a moment. I'm in the middle of a passage."

"Hermione Jean Granger! The aeroplane will not wait for your studies. You can finish reading your book on the flight over the channel. Now come along; your father is already standing in line and waiting for us to join him."

Grumbling at her mother's stern command, Hermione did as she was told. She placed a bookmark on the page and closed the volume with a heavy thud. Hermione then placed the Greek Grimoire into an expandable satchel she had purchased while in France and stood up to join her parents in the queue.

Not for the first time did Hermione wish that she could travel by magic as it would have shortened their journey by a number of hours. But no, such a convenient tool was not available to her. As the haughty Ministry witch had told her when they had visited Diagon Alley for her school supplies, Ministry approved magical travel was forbidden to all Muggles, regardless of whether they had a witch or wizard in the family. The incident had infuriated Hermione as the policy reeked of both spite and wilful ignorance of that which the Ministry did not understand. It also added one more thing to the list of reforms she planned to make when she graduated Hogwarts and joined the Ministry.

Honestly, there were times where Hermione half-wondered what might happen if the world's entire population of non-magic users were to someday disappear. Would the wizard's and witches of the world celebrate? Would they be horrified? Or would the entire community merely give a collective shrug of indifference? Knowing the British magical society as she did, the reaction would probably depend on the manner of their disappearance. With anything less than a thermonuclear apocalypse being labelled as a 'muggle only' problem.

Grim thoughts such as those had been growing of late within Hermione. The books Professor Dumbledore had given her to read did not make for pleasant reading. The stories of those chosen by a deity were so often filled with death and acts of such appalling barbarity that reading them had begun to give her nightmares. While the outlook they painted for people who, like Harry, had been chosen by some higher power was bleak to say the least. Nor was it much better for the people surrounding them, many of whom were cut down either by the chosen person's enemies or by the chosen person themselves.

Yet Hermione refused to allow that to happen to her Harry. Damn the grim history and damn whatever entity thought that it could use Harry to advance some ancient and hoary goal. This would be the last week this summer she spent without seeing him. And though that should have brought her comfort, Harry's most recent letters had hinted of disturbing events surrounding him.

Which was much the same as always, only with one big difference. That this time Hermione was not there to help.

God only knew what sort of mess he would get himself into without her there to keep him safe.

* * *

**Draco Malfoy (Cursed)**

**Age: 14**

**Heir Apparent to the Malfoy Family**

**Level 44**

**Stats:**

**STR: 50**

**DEX: 68**

**CON: 62**

**INT: 130**

**WIS: 105**

**CHA: 265**

**Traits:**

**Envious One**

**Gullible**

**Gossipmonger**

**Dedicated**

**Pureblood**

**Fair Whether Friend**

**School Quidditch Player**

**Pureblood Supremacist**

**Sacrificium Virginali**

**Dark Arts Initiate**

**Blue Blood**

**Spoiled**

**Vain**

Upon seeing Malfoy's new and improved stats, as well as that glaring status affliction placed next to the boy's name, a single thought ran through Harry's head.

"Bollocks."

**A/N:** This chapter is a two-parter. I had considered making it one large chapter, but I wanted to experiment a little with perspectives and flow. It's a break from my usual style, but hey! What is fan fiction for if not to allow authors to experiment with different ideas and concepts?

Next chapter will be jam packed with action and contains a twist that many of you probably won't see coming. Trust me when I say that the pay-off will be worth your wait when I post it up in two weeks.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	32. Chapter 31: Duelling Draco

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter Thirty-One: Duelling Draco**

Harry stood in the designated V.I.P. waiting area, staring in shock at the results his sneaky use of Observe on Draco had garnered. Just what had Lucius done to his son in order to finally make the boy a genuine threat? Because there was no way on Earth that Draco Malfoy of all people could have _ever_ become so powerful just by following some training regimen his rich daddy had created for him.

To make matters worse Draco had not so much as reacted to Harry's foul language. Nor had the pale-faced ponce even once tried to taunt Harry as he had done on _every_ occasion they had _ever_ crossed paths. Instead, the boy stood as still and silent as a stone statue. It was an abnormal state which made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rise in warning.

Harry put some distance between himself and the immobile Draco just in case the boy could still hear Harry speaking. Then he used the Game's Help feature to look up the two newest additions to Draco's status page. Harry had a feeling that they would shed some light on Draco's new self.

_**Cursed:**_

_This person's mind or spirit has been temporarily affected by powerful Dark Magic. They may no longer be in control of their own actions._

_**Sacrificium Virginali:**_

_A ritual of Dark Magic intended to benefit males, it is a surpassingly rare ritual due to its strict requires. It can only be done in one's youth and requires a young virgin girl of near or equal age to willingly sacrifice her future for the sake of the male. It must be performed by a witch steeped in Dark Magic._

_One the ritual is completed the virginal sacrifice will suffer immediate consequences. Their health will deteriorate, their future growth in magic slowed, and their lifespan cut in half. They are also forever tied to the one they have given themselves to as a slave._

_The male will gain immediate benefits. Their overall power will see an immediate rise, their future growth in magic will be increased and they will gain an increased lifespan._

_Pansy Parkinson has sacrificed herself for Draco Malfoy, who receives a +20 boost in level, +25 to all physical attributes, and +100 to both mental attributes, and +200 to the charisma attribute. This trait can be removed or changed over time with great difficulty_

Harry's face blanched at the description of Draco's newest trait. What Lucius and Draco had done to Pansy was _wrong_! Harry might not have liked Pansy overmuch, but no one deserved to have something like that happen to them. They had stolen Pansy's future as surely as Riddle's shade had hoped to steal Ginny's and reading about it made Harry's chest burn with anger.

He wasted no time in furiously using the Party feature to write a message to Remus and Sirius letting the two men know what Harry had just learned. But he only had a moment to look it over and make sure that the message made sense before a pretty witch with skin as dark as coal, the same one who had stuck Draco into the room earlier, stuck her head into the tent and smiled. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, please follow me to the staging area. Mr. Bagman is just about to call out your names."

* * *

From his high vantage point Wormtail looked on as something strange occurred. One minute ago both of his old friends had stiffened at the same time. Both men had then made a similar hand motion before their eyes began to flicker to and fro, almost as though they were reading an invisible message. Then, in spite of being located in very distant parts of the tent, both men had locked eyes with one another at the same time and mouthed 'Plan D'.

Wormtail had never seen the like in all his years spent with the two. It was almost as though the two men had been communicating telepathically with one another. But unless at least one of them had secretly turned into a master Legilimens in the years since Wormtail's betrayal, which was unlikely given their mouthed statement, then such a feat should have been impossible.

Puzzled, Wormtail made note to bring it to his Master's attention later on. Perhaps the Dark Lord would know of some explanation Wormtail did not. Then the crowd below burst into cheers, forcing the Animagus to turn his attention back to the floating ring of dark grey stone where the duel would soon take place.

Wormtail shifted his weight around and focused on observing Potter as the boy walked up to stand beside Hot Air Bagman on the duelling ring. The Dark Lord was interested to see how the young boy had grown since their last encounter and felt that Lucius' little scheme could serve as an excellent test of the Potter's abilities. Wormtail just wished that he had been allowed to use another batch of the Polyjuice Potion so he could have observed from the crowd, but the Master's plan required that no more of the precious potion be used for the foreseeable future.

After a few shouted words and razzle dazzle action from Hot Air Bagman the man jumped onto a floating piece of Rock that hovered over the ring. He zoomed off with a flamboyantly yelled 'begin!' Images of the boy's were projected into the air as they saluted each other with their wands, while at the same time a hazy golden shield formed between the edges of the ring and the crowd beyond.

Then the duel started.

* * *

Harry rushed his opponent. If Draco had gotten a big power-up _and_ was being controlled by someone else, then he wanted to end the duel as quickly as possible. Whomever was controlling the boy would know how to use Draco's power better than the boy himself and was likely to be an experienced duellist.

Harry raised his wand and fired off a quick spell. "_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Melfusus __Sagitta_!"

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Harry shouted out the body locking jinx as he dodged Malfoy's return shot. The acid green bolt flew past Harry's arm as he moved. But Harry's hopes for quick win were dashed when Malfoy blocked both of Harry's spells with a silent cast '_Protego'. _Draco then cancelled the shield and shoved his wand forward, unleashing three more silent spells in the span of the time it took Harry to blink.

Not even having the time to curse at the unfairness of it all Harry cast a '_Protego'_ of his own to block. The three spells landed on Harry's shield with enough force to rattle his teeth and send him to his knees, but not one broke through.

Harry scrambled back to his feet and launched a barrage of his own. "_Stupefy_! _Stupefy_! _Anteoculatia_! _Locomotor Mortis_! _Stupefy_! _Expelliarmus_!"

Harry's barrage lanced at his opponent in an assault that would have taken out most seventh year Hogwart's students. But with skill far in excess of anything he had shown in the past, Draco countered every one of Harry's spells with the ease of a seasoned duellist. The possessed boy's wand flicked four of the spells aside, shielded against two and allowed the final one to fly harmlessly past his right shoulder.

Then a new barrage of spells flew at Harry which forced him to retreat for the second time in less than a minute. Harry felt his face flush as he did his level best to dodge and block the withering assault. Draco's power-up was really causing problems as the other boy's spells continued to hammer against Harry's shield like a battering ram hitting a castle's gate. It was almost as bad as facing off against Dora or one of the other adults when they were determined to pound Harry into submission with pure force.

Harry gritted his teeth as an especially hard jolt knocked his wand arm askew. He managed to twist it back in place just in time to barely catch the next spell on the edge of his shield. But the damage was already done and the possessed Draco took advantage of the opening to pin Harry down with so many spells that Harry was hardly able to move.

Sweat began to dampen his robes as the pounding continued without end. Magic streamed from his veins as Harry pumped everything he could into the shield. His mind raced to try and find a solution as he held on. Remaining on the defensive was not an option. And Harry refused to allow even a possessed and empowered version of Draco Malfoy to defeat him. So Harry took a deep breath and decided to make a gamble.

He dropped his shield. After which he twisted his body to barely avoid a purple-white spell that scorched the hair of both eyebrows as it whizzed past his face and pointed his wand directly at the floor between himself and his opponent. "_Bombarda_!"

The stone floor of the ring blew up in a spectacular explosion. Bits of rock went flying in every direction, forcing Malfoy to dodge the unanticipated hail. Harry did his best to further the chaos by casting a smoke spell on the area to obscure his opponent's sight while a constant series of _Bombarda's _spewed forth from his wand tokeep the rocks flying. Harry kept it up for a full minute, making it so that the air was filled with a cover of smoke and shrapnel.

Only when he was certain that Malfoy was sure to be hunkered down behind a shield did Harry use the smoke and falling debris to hide himself as he began to search for the other boy's position. The tip of Harry's wand glowed red as a stunning spell lingered on his lips, waiting to be unleashed at a moment's notice as he quietly stalked through the smoke. But as the seconds stretched with no sign of his opponent, the back of Harry's neck once again began to tingle in alarm.

A brief glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye was the only thing that saved him.

"_Glacius_!"

* * *

A red jet raced out of the smoke, blasting into the duelling ring's shield with enough force to cause a slight ripple. Several more jets of multicoloured light burst forth in quick succession as the two hidden combatants let loose with spell after spell. The tension within the jammed tent began to skyrocket as not a single spectator could tell what was happening.

Then the sound of a roaring wind filled the air, causing the concealing smoke to dissipate as though it were mist on a sunny day.

From his spot on the floating announcer's platform located next the ring's side, Ludo hopped from foot to foot in nervous excitement as Draco blow away Harry's smokescreen. The blonde-haired boy looked as cool as ice and had yet to break so much as a sweat. His wand held in an elegant grip, the boy stood still as he levelled a cool gaze at his prone opponent. Harry's half-frozen form lying flat on the duelling ring floor caused a ripple of astonishment to run through the assembled spectators. A chorus of shocked gasps rang out from the mainly British crowd.

Ludo felt his heart clutch in fear at the sight. A loss here would not bode well for the boy's upcoming Quidditch debut. And Ludo had far too much riding on that particular event, both professionally and otherwise, to afford a loss. So he sucked in a deep breath and did what little he could to assist the young boy on whom he had gambled so much.

"Wow! Ladies and gentlemen, today you are witnessing a duel for the ages! One doesn't normally encounter such a high level of magical skill and ability outside of the professional duelling circuit! While they were hidden within the smoke it seems that several more spells were exchanged between our young duellists. Draco Malfoy is currently observing the House Duelling etiquette of not attacking an opponent who is downed, but that rule only holds true for ten seconds. Unless Harry wishes to forfeit he'll need to get back on his feet soon. Oops! Silly me, I forgot to start the countdown. Ahem! 10… 9… 8… 7…"

* * *

Lucius' lips curled into a faint sneer as he watched the duel while surrounded by his fellow Purebloods. Thus far his plan was proceeding perfectly. Potter's body was already a mess, while the wary look in the boy's eyes spoke to the desperation of a cornered beast.

Little did the boy know that this was only the beginning. In order to further raise House Malfoy's prestige, Morgan was under strict orders to toy with Potter so that the crowd would feel as though the brat had a fighting chance.

Only when it looked as though Potter might be gaining the upper hand would Morgan finally stop holding back and truly cut loose. At which point not even Potter's absurd luck could save the boy from being utterly humiliated. For while House Duelling Rules might prohibit death, anything short of permanent physical injury was perfectly acceptable.

Lucius flicked his eyes over the side of the stage where the disgusting Werewolf the boy was so fond of had made an appearance. The freak was seemed to be arguing with one of the stadium's employees, his hands making sharp gestures while his mouth moved animatedly. But whatever the discussion was about seemed to end in failure as the half-breed soon stalked away in apparent disgust.

A quick glance and nod from the employee in Lucius' direction caused him to smile. Paying off several key Emporium employees had been a risky gamble on his part. Especially if Dumbledore or someone in the wrong Ministry department were to gain wind of it. But if the Werewolf had been trying to get the duel called off as Lucius suspected, then the risk had already paid off.

Lucius inclined his head in return and made note of the man's face in case future services were ever required. Then he went back to observing the duel in order to maintain his genteel public image. Lucius raised his hands to politely clap along with the rest of the crowd as Potter slowly rose to his feet, wand raised and pointed in 'Draco's' direction.

* * *

"4… 3… 2… and he's up! Just look at those flashing green eyes; that's the just sort of iron-willed gaze you would expect to see from Britain's youngest hero! Give the boy a round of cheers!"

Sirius had no time to admire his godson's steely eyed aplomb. Nor did he have time to worry about what the resounding explosions that soon followed might possibly mean for the boy. Having finally located Dora in the sea of humans gathered to watch Harry's duel, Sirius grabbed the girl's shoulder and swung her around to face him. Though he was forced to bat her raised wand out of his face before he could bring the girl up to speed on what Harry had messaged as quickly as possible.

The sullen and angry appearance that had been present all day vanished from her face while Sirius spoke. Replacing it was a look of cool-eyed professionalism that Sirius expected to see from the person chosen to be Mad Eye's final apprentice. Once he had finished speaking, Dora narrowed her eyes and tapped her wand against her full lips.

"So in short you're certain that someone's possessing Draco, right?" She asked curtly. "And that it's not the Imperius?"

"That's right. Harry was only able to get that much to us before the match started, but I'm certain that the boy's information is spot on." Sirius nodded begrudgingly. He might despise the Game of Death, but the damn thing had yet to feed Harry any bad information. "We tried to notify the officials about it, but Remus and I were basically told to sod off since none of the Emporium's detection spells have registered anything Dark or illegal happening. The of us have been sweeping the tent ourselves while looking for you ever since."

Dora snorted in apparent disdain. "I'm not surprised by that. Lucius probably paid the employee's off. And as for sweeping the tent… well, doing that sort of thing is like searching for a needle in a haystack." Her eyes flashed in thought as the girl pursed her lips. "But I can't really blame you since most Aurors would be reduced to the same sort of tactic when working under peacetime restrictions. At least now I know why you had me beg Mad Eye to lend me one of his little hunting trinkets for today."

Sirius' breath caught in his throat. Moody was famous for being tight-fisted with his belongings and Sirius had not expected anything to come of the request. Dora's words came as a bright ray of unanticipated hope. "He actually lent it to you? And you brought it here?"

"Sure did! 'Cause I'm just that awesome and he knows it. Take a look-see for yourself."

Dora reached into the pocket of her torn up jeans and removed a simple piece of silver and bronze. Cast in the shape of a bosun's whistle, the device was a one of a kind magical tool that was amongst her famous teacher's most prized possessions. Sirius thanked every divinity whose name or title he could remember that the girl had actually been able to persuade the old codger to part with it for the day.

After preening under Sirius' awed shock for a few seconds the pink-haired girl brought the whistle to her lips, whereupon she lightly blew on it. No sound emerged that Sirius could hear, but Dora nonetheless cocked her head to one side and listened intently. After a short time she began to point toward several locations.

"I'm getting three reactions. Two sound the same, which means that they are probably from the same source. One on the stage, which has to be coming from Draco, and another one coming from the far side of the tent." Dora then shifted her finger to the rafters. "I'm also getting a different reaction coming from up there, but it's odd. The reaction is almost… muted. Or muffled. And it disappeared nearly as soon as I heard it, as though something were shielding the source from the Whistle's detection."

Sirius nodded and used the Party feature to send a short message to Remus notifying the man of their location and telling him to join them. He noticed Dora's eyes follow his movements with some degree of confusion, but the intelligent girl did not say anything about Sirius' seemingly strange behaviour. Then he cast a sensory enhancement spell on his eyes and peered into the rafters to see if he could spot the person or trap Lucius had placed on high.

* * *

"_Squeak_!"

Wormtail gasped in horror as he felt a wave of hot magic wash over his tiny body. The feeling lasted for but a moment as the ring his master had given him soon released a freezing chill that wiped the warm feeling away. But the damage had already been done. He had been discovered. So Wormtail took off along the rafters in a desperate bid to escape whomever it was that had detected his presence.

* * *

"_WOOOOOORRRMMMTAAAAAAIII__IIIIII__IILLL!_"

Harry flinched at the ungodly howl which tore its way loose from his godfather's throat. But he had no time to think about it as his opponent was currently advancing on his position. The tip of the possessed boy's wand lit up a blood-red colour as he viciously slashed the thin piece of wood through the air. A wave of crimson light flowed along the length of the cut, soaring towards Harry's position.

The spell had the look of something meant to rip or tear. So rather than try to dodge or shield Harry chose to respond in kind. "_Diffindo __Maxima_!"

The two spells met in mid-air. A faint ripping noise reached his ears as the attacks vied for dominance, visibly pushing against the other. Seeing an opportunity to finally take the initiative, Harry kept the pressure on and launched '_D__iffindo'_ after '_D__iffindo'_ at Malfoy's attack.

Trickles of sweat began to flow down Harry's head and neck from the effort. Pumping as much magic into each spell as he possibly could without causing them to fail was a tricky ability that he had yet to master. A fact which was very much in evidence when two of the spells broke down mid-cast. Thankfully, the cost of failure for this particular spell was only a somewhat larger drain on his magic reserves and tiny paper cuts along the length of his wand-arm. Neither of which slowed Harry's ability to keep on forcing out spell after spell to put the pressure on his opponent.

Across the way the person controlling Malfoy did much the same, sending out slash after slash of red light. Soon the air was filled with dozens of spells whose only purpose was to cut or rend. The opposing spells visibly strove against one another, causing the faint ripping noise to turn into an ear-screeching buzz which filled the entire tent. Harry noticed at least half of the crowd cringing and covering their ears at the auditory assault.

Then the original pair of spells exploded without warning, causing a chain reaction which tore through the remaining spells like a series of gas canisters exposed to an open flame. Fragments slashed out in all directions, forcing both Harry and his opponent to take cover as rippling magical blades sliced down at them.

* * *

Dora watched as her cousin barrelled through the crowd in pursuit of a figure that only he could see. She had no idea what Sirius' shout had meant, but knowing that he was pursuing one of the three sources of active Dark Magic was good enough for her. It was something that she could ask him about once the operation was over, along with his strange movement's, after she had located Remus and relayed the information Moody's Whistle had uncovered.

Spotting Remus standing in shock not far away, Dora made her way over to the older man. Once by his side she filled him in on what she had told Sirius. A look of comprehension dawned on Remus' face at her words. After a few seconds of deep thought, during which Dora saw a broken cutting spell come close enough to Harry's head to slice off a thick lock of the boy's unruly hair, the older man turned and gestured for Dora to follow.

"Let Sirius handle that issue," Remus said while picking up his pace to a slow jog. "If it's coming from the person he thinks, then he should be enough to take care of it on his own. The other source you found is more likely to be the cause behind Draco's sudden rise in skill and should be our priority. I'd be willing to wager that it's heavily protected as well."

A feral grin came across her face as Dora matched Remus stride for stride. Ever since her fight against the French tart, Dora's seething emotions had been begging for a viable outlet. One that they had been unable to find and which had only been made worse by her recent argument with Hestia. The thought of which brought a brief pang of pain to Dora's heart before she shunted it to the side.

Sorting through her feelings over the unforeseen argument with her lover could wait until after she put an end to the Dark scheme currently targeting Harry.

"Heavily protected, you say?" Dora cheerfully chirped at the dour man as she rolled her shoulders. Kicking some Dark Wizard or Witch's arse would be the _perfect_ way to let loose the simmering anger still pent up inside of her. "Interesting! While I've prepared for this moment for years it will still be my first time facing another magic user in actual combat."

Remus glanced at her sidelong without breaking pace. "Does that worry you?"

"Nope! Just wanted to let you know that I'm looking forward to popping my combat cherry with you, Remus. And to ask if you've ever done something like this before."

"Too many times to count during the war," came the short reply. The older man's eyes hardened into sharp points of grey-flecked brown as he spoke. "Just remember to keep your head down and to follow Moody's training. Dark Wizards will target your life from the first spell cast. If you don't fight back with everything you've got from the beginning, then chances are good that either you or someone around you will die."

A glib response passed through Dora's mind, but for once it was caught and stopped by her internal filter. Remus' reminder was appreciated but unnecessary. Moody's voice was already echoing through her brain, repeating every key bit of knowledge the lovable old codger had jammed into her skull over a year of training.

Still, it had been nice of the veteran to say that to a rookie like her and said a lot about Remus' character and deserved a return gesture on her part. Once they solved today's issue she would need to think on how to do so.

* * *

"_Deprimo._"

The softly whispered spell sent Harry diving. A smart move on his part as the forest green light blasted a hole clear through the ring right where he had been standing. Sparing a quick peek, Harry could see the dull brown of the Duelling Tent's ground clear through it. Then more spells were on the way, filling the air with in a glowing swarm of light.

Harry dropped himself into a kneeling position as he cast a shielding charm. The first spell which hit battered at Harry's shield, hitting it with enough force that the shield began to flicker. But before Harry could reinforce it a second spell hit. This one broke through the shield like a hot knife cutting through butter. Harry tried to twist his body out of its path and only partially succeeded. The spell grazed his forearm, leaving a putrid boil that oozed a noxious green liquid. The oozing wound began to ache like a broken bone and seared against his nerves like a hot poker.

Covering the wound with his tattered sleeve and biting back a yell at the agonizing pain, Harry stood up and looked towards his opponent. Ever since their prior stand-off with the cutting and slashing spells had failed so spectacularly, whomever was controlling Draco had changed tactics. They were focusing on using area of effect spells that cut down on Harry's ability to block or dodge before following up with shield-breakers, spells whose magical force were specially designed to break through shields. It was simple, brutal, and effective.

The struggle of avoiding a ring-out or worse was beginning to take its toll on Harry's body. Going to Quidditch practice in the morning had worn him out more than he had thought and several hours of rest had not been enough to get his body back into peak condition. Continuing to use the traditional tactics of dodging or blocking was not going to work and Harry was not yet skilled enough to try deflecting. He could only think of two options he could use to turn the situation around, both of which were long shots.

One of them, using his Inventory to take out some of the items gifted to him by Dora's teacher, Moody, was a last resort. It could only be done while under a smokescreen as there were too many cameras and other recording devices around for Harry to display the Game's most visible ability. The other option was something taught to him by Remus. A tactic that was highly effective against most Purebloods, but one which was difficult to pull off when duelling under House Rules. Yet given that the possessed Draco had already foiled one of Harry's other tactics involving a smokescreen, Harry chose to take a chance on what Remus had taught him.

Harry picked himself up from the ring's floor as Bagman began to count. Then he immediately charged at his opponent, forming a shield in front of his body while cocking his left arm back for a telegraphed strike.

"Oh no! Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that Harry has forgotten one of the main tenets of House Rules Duelling!" Ludo cried out in what sounded like genuine fear. "Unlike with Professional rules, at no time during the match may a duellist physically strike their opponent _unless_ it is the result of a spell. Striking your opponent otherwise will result in an immediate forfeiture."

The possessed Draco calmly watched Harry approach, the tip of his wand glowing as it spat out spell after spell that lanced toward Harry's charging form. Harry's shield wavered under the assault, but managed to hold as he closed in on his foe. Harry also had to hold back a smile upon hearing Ludo's words. If he had managed to fool Ludo, then chances were that he had also fooled his opponent.

"_Noooooo_! Don't do it Harry! Don't end lose such a marvellous duel by technicality. If nothing else, then think of your adoring fans!"

Harry ignored Ludo's increasingly plaintive wails and pushed forward. Spell after spell from the possessed Draco landed on Harry's shield, weakening it until the shield was almost completely gone. But by that poiny it had served its purpose as Harry was well within striking distance.

Lowering his wand to point at the floor when he dropped the shield, Harry swung his clenched fist towards Malfoy's face. When he saw Malfoy's eyes move to track it Harry knew that he had succeeded.

"_Deprimo_!"

A gaping hole opened in the ring's floor. But because Harry was not able to focus on aiming the spell, the hole it created was set behind Draco's heels and not directly under his position. As a result Draco stumbled backwards rather than falling into the newly created pit. But that set up the second part of Harry's plan perfectly.

As his telegraphed punch missed and his leading foot caught on the hole's edge, Harry used it as an excuse to slam his shoulder into Draco's chest with enough force to send the stumbling boy flying. A look of stunned surprise at Harry's action, the first emotion that Harry had seen on the boy's face since before the duel had started, shone bright and clear on the Draco's face. Then Harry had no more time to think as both he and the possessed Draco were forced to concentrate on not falling though the open hole.

"Ooooh! Now _that_ I didn't see coming, folks, and by golly am I glad that young Harry's shoulder check – as fine a Quidditch manoeuvrer as I've ever seen – falls within the boundaries of House Rules thanks to that clever bit of spellwork. Bravo lad, bravo!"

* * *

"Halt! By order of a Ministry Auror –"

"DOWN!"

Remus shoved Dora's head down and returned fire as a pair of silver coloured spells shot through the air. The deadly projectiles passed through the space Dora had previously occupied while Remus' own spell was deflected into a heavy wooden dresser. Remus flicked his eyes around their environment and analysed the situation.

He and Dora had used Mad Eye's Whistle to track down the source of Dark Magic. It had been coming out of a seemingly innocuous tent located in the Cup's camping grounds. A quick series of detection and nullification spells had found and disarmed several traps cast on the tent's entrance, after which they had both darted inside while Dora belted out her obligatory warning.

On the floor in front of them lay a man and a woman. The glazed look in their eyes indicated that they had been placed under some sort of incapacitating spell. Meanwhile, two large figures dressed in obscuring robes loomed behind them. A third was sitting, wand pressed against a glowing red orb that floated in the air before them. All three figures had their faces covered with the same childish masks Remus recalled Harry mentioning to him.

Remus threw himself at the one who had attacked them, his wand spitting flashes of light as he sought to put what could only be a former Death Eater on the defensive. "Take the other one and look for a chance to disrupt the one on the ground. Now!"

The Death Eater deflected each of Remus' spells with the ease of a practised magical combatant. Not too surprising since all Death Eaters prided themselves on their duelling skills. But their focus on magical tactics to the exclusion of most others was a blind spot. One that Remus' opening series of attacks had been intended to exploit. He kept up the barrage while moving closer to the man, his lips stretched in a snarl as he closed the trap on his opponent.

The big bodied man gave a grunt of surprise when Remus' body slammed into his own, the depth of his voice giving his sex away. He threw a clumsy punch that Remus blocked with a raised arm, then gave another pained grunt as Remus' knee connected with his crotch. The sound of wood shattering and pottery breaking rang out to the side as Dora engaged her own opponent in pitched combat.

As Remus darted forward to press his assault the Death Eater made a slashing motion with his wand. A short blade of purple fire formed at the end of it which the man stabbed towards Remus' stomach. Remus dodged the stab and several follow-up swipes. Then the man overextended on a second stab and Remus was able to close the gap between them. He clocked the man across the bottom of his jaw with a right hook strong enough to spin him round and nearly drop him. Were it not for what must have been a sticking Charm of some sort the blow would surely have knocked the man's mask off and exposed his identity.

Remus gave a wolfish grin and closed in on the man. The Death Eater had made a fatal mistake when he had fed into Remus' actions instead of trying to break away. Thanks to his Werewolf heritage and long years spent with the dregs of society, close quarters combat heavily favoured Remus far more than it did some prissy pureblood fop.

The next round of their battle was not pretty as Remus laid into the man with his fists. But just as he had knocked the air out of his opponent's lungs and reached out to rip off the concealing mask, the sound of Dora's voice raised in excitement filled the tent. After which came the sound of a body hitting carpeted flooring while another man's voice began to swear in fear.

Then the world went quiet and Remus' instincts blared in alarm. He had an instant to brace himself before a powerful suction pulled on his body, followed by an immense wave of heat which washed across his back.

The next thing Remus knew his body was flying through the air while a sharp burst of pain rang through his skull.

* * *

Sirius bounded through the camp, revelling in the sheer speed his canine form brought. The shocked gasps and curses of witches and wizards filled the air as Sirius's dark form pushed through their crowded ranks. He had switched to his Animagus shape the second he had left the Duelling tent, giving a moment's thanks to Dumbledore for persuading him to register his transformation with the Ministry and convincing Amelia not to press charges over the rather belated registration.

Far ahead of him was the small form of a rat. The rodent's head start, coupled with its small size as it wormed its way nooks and crannies, had caused Sirius to lose sight of it. But thanks to his canine form Sirius could track his foe by scent alone.

The chase between lasted until they reached the edge of the nearby forest. With Sirius closing in on him and nowhere left to run, Wormtail's small form shimmered and stretched as the Betrayer switched to his human form. Sirius chose to do the same, his thick fur coat receding into his skin while his paws turned back into hands and feet.

With a speed and power fuelled by anger, Sirius whipped his wand out and pointed it at the Betrayer. The word to one of Severus' old school spells came to his lips. "_Sectumsempra_!"

Wormtail's wand flicked out, barely managing to deflect the Dark curse into a nearby tree. The mighty oak, taller than five grown men stacked on top of one another and nearly as wide, gave a sharp crack as the spell bit deep into its strong wood. Pieces of torn bark sprayed into the air as the spell lashed against its rough surface.

Ever the coward, Wormtail ducked behind the tree and called out to Sirius. "M-m-my old friend, please, d-d-don't hurt me! Remember all of the g-g-good times we once shared together!"

Sirius growled and unleashed a silent '_B__ombarda __M__axima'_. The damaged tree burst apart in a hail of splinters as the powerful explosion tore the trunk to shreds, forcing the pathetic Dark Wizard to yelp in pain and terror as he ran for new cover.

"_How _dare_ you still draw breath while Lily and James lie dead! __You were meant to _protect_ them, not _destroy_ them!_" Sirius roared at his former friend. Spell after silent spell came forth from Sirius' wand as he sought to take the pathetic man's life. "You have _no_ right to beg for mercy! Not when you refused to grant it to those who trusted you with their lives."

"_Nooooo_! Please, spare me Sirius! I beg of you; it wasn't my fault! The Dark Lord made me do it. All of it!" Wormtail howled as he ducked and dodged while trees exploded all around him. "I swear that it's the truth!"

"Will your pathetic snivelling bring them back to life?" Sirius coldly bit out as he continued to advance. "Will it return the decade I spent in Azkaban paying for your crimes and my own stupidity? No! Now end this farce so I can cut off your head and feed it to the Thestrals!"

"B-b-but I'm a spy! A spy that Dumbledore planted into the Dark Lord's midst! I've been working for him all of these years, Sirius, I was just too afraid to tell anyone. You must believe me!"

Sirius chose to answer his former friend's disgustingly false plea with action rather than words. He chased Wormtail through the forest, the balding man barely managing to stay one step ahead of Sirius' pursuit. Spellfire flickered back and forth between them as Wormtail finally gave up on convincing Sirius of his innocence.

Then a cutting spell that Wormtail failed to deflect or dodge cut a long gash across Wormtail's brow. As the portly man staggered from the blow, blinded by his own blood dripping into his eyes, another spell set the entire right side of his robe on fire. After which a bone-breaker hex turned Wormtail's right ankle into a pulp of mangled flesh and dropped the Betrayer to the forest floor like a sack of wet flour.

His chest heaving in rage and exertion, Sirius stood over the quivering form of the man who had caused the death of James and Lily. The man who had nearly ruined Sirius' entire life and caused so much harm to Harry as well. For Wormtail's crimes there was only one sentence which could be given. One that Sirius refused to let the man escape for any longer.

A venomous green light formed on the tip of Sirius' wand as he pointed it at the man's quivering chest. Pausing to savour the moment, Sirius gave a quick prayer to his departed friends and prepared to blast the Betrayer into oblivion. "Goodbye, Wormtail."

Then the hair on the back of his neck prickled in warning. Sirius dodged to his left and whipped his body around as an orange whip of fiery magic lashed through the spot where he had just stood. Sirius raised his wand to respond in kind.

Only to halt in shock when he recognized the person standing before him. "You're-"

* * *

Harry gasped as he shook off the latest spell the possessed Draco had cast. He stumbled backward, wand raised while the other hand massaged his throat. Fresh air raced into his oxygen starved lungs as he desperately gasped for air.

The spectators burst into applause while Ludo yelled in excitement. "I don't believe it! Draco had Harry on the ropes, but our young hero managed to break his opponent's spell with a silent counter-charm, the first silent spell he's used thus far. And look! He even managed to cast a _Confundus_ on his opponent too. What a turnaround!"

It seemed as though whatever curse had been placed on Draco had ended. The boy was standing as though dazed, his wide eyes and open mouth clearly showing that he was not the same person whom Harry had been fighting against the entire duel. If he were to guess, then Harry would have to assume that either Sirius or Remus had been successful in eliminating Malfoy's advantage.

Harry would not allow this opportunity to go to waste. "_Stupefy_! _Expelliarmus_! _Stupefy_!"

The trio of spells slammed into Malfoy's unsuspecting body with all the grace of a bull hitting a cardboard box. Draco flew a dozen yards in the air before crashing back to Earth, his robed form tumbling until it reached the very edge of the ring. After which his body lay silent and still.

Harry plucked Malfoy's wand from the air as the disarming spell brought it to him before slowly advancing on his opponent's position. With a quiet whisper Harry cast Observe on Draco's prone form.

**Draco Malfoy (Stunned)**

**Age: 14**

**Heir Apparent to the Malfoy Family**

**Level 44**

**Stats:**

**STR: 50**

**DEX: 68**

**CON: 62**

**INT: 130**

**WIS: 105**

**CHA: 265**

**Traits:**

**Envious One**

**Gullible**

**Gossipmonger**

**Dedicated**

**Pureblood**

**Fair Whether Friend**

**School Quidditch Player**

**Pureblood Supremacist**

**Sacrificium Virginali**

**Dark Arts Initiate**

**Blue Blood**

**Spoiled**

**Vain**

The 'Cursed' affliction next to Draco's name had been replaced by 'Stunned.' Which, if what Harry recalled from those D&D books he had read over the summer was true, meant that Draco was literally down for the count until someone revived him. While whatever had been allowing the moronic ponce to smack Harry around the duelling ring for much of their fight really had come to an end.

Harry gave a sigh of relief as he heard Ludo's voice jubilantly count out numbers and declare Harry to be the winner. The sandy-haired man jumped down from his floating platform and hoisted Harry's wand arm high, causing the crowd of spectators to burst into cheers. Meanwhile the Game of Death gave Harry a notification stating the completion of the quest as 'excellent'. Harry just let it all wash over him as he looked around, trying to spot a familiar face. Sirius and the rest had been successful and Harry felt as though he might owe them his life from the way things had been going.

But no matter how long he looked Harry did not spot them. Not even Dora's pink hair or Hestia's cheerful face. It was only twenty minutes later once Harry had managed to pry himself loose from Ludo's fevered grasp and shake himself free from the celebrating crowd that the reason became clear.

A soft 'ding' heralding the arrival of a Party Member's message rang through Harry's head.

**A/N:** I put in a few oblique hints to some of Moody's hunting methods back in Chapter Eleven (and a few others) when Wormtail was escaping. Suffice to say that though the whistle is one of them it is far from being the only trick in the man's possession. Moody is going to have more tricks and tools up his sleeves in this AU than the Mad Hatter had teacups.

Also, belated though the announcement may be, this will be my last chapter for several months. Life is going well for me, but in order to keep it going well I will need to put my proverbial nose to the grindstone and focus on things other than writing for a time. Keep a weather eye on my profile for updates.

I hope that ya'll enjoyed it. Tune in next episode to see the conclusion of this terrible cliffhanger!

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	33. Chapter 32: After the Duel

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter ****Thirty-Two****: ****After the Duel**

**Ding!**

**Mandatory Quest Alert Notification**

**Defeat the Cheat**

**Progress:**

**Complete**

**You Gain ****10 Levels**

**You Achieved Excellent Completion**

**Up to Five Individuals of your Choice May Also be Granted 10 Additional Levels**

**All Individuals Must be in the Gamer's Party to Receive the Levels**

On any other day Harry would have been ecstatic when he saw what he had received for completing the Game's quest. Not only was he improving himself with the Game, but it was also providing him a way to improve those around him as well. Which, in Harry's book, was beyond wonderful.

But thoughts for the future would have to wait. As the short message Harry had received from Sirius through the Game's Party feature had been rather scant on the details. The man had only told Harry that Ministry Aurors had surrounded him, that he was being taken to a hospital, and that Harry would need to grab either Andromeda or McGonnagall for backup. Then the Party had been broken, leaving a frantic Harry to rush back to the Cottage where he found Andromeda waiting for them to return from Harry's duel.

After Harry managed to blurt out what little he knew – that Sirius and the others were hurt while protecting him from one of Malfoy's plots and had been taken to a hospital – Andromeda had leapt into action. The woman had grabbed his shoulder and immediately apparated them to a building Harry had never before seen. A faded sign hanging in what appeared to be a large atrium declared it to be St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, a statement backed up by the large number of wizards and witches milling around in various states of odd injury. A rather unenthusiastic receptionist then directed them to a place called the Spell Damage Ward on the fourth floor and was left gaping as both Andromeda and Harry ran off without so much as a thank you.

Harry followed Andromeda as they sped along. The sound of her heeled shoes drummed a steady 'clack clack' sound as they made their way through the hospital's winding corridors. A chubby man wearing the white and grey robes of a Healer greeted them at the ward's entrance. Harry cast a stealthy Observe on the man as he moved to engage Andromeda, but the man came up as too high to read.

"Please halt!" The rotund man blurted as he held up a hand towards them. "This area is currently restricted and visitors are not allowed in at this time."

Andromeda took one look at the man and kept going. "If you try to stop me from seeing my daughter and my cousin, then I _promise_ you will regret it."

The sound of flapping sandals came as the Healer rushed ahead of them and tried to stop them a second time. "B-but please! Mrs. Tonks, you can't go there just yet. This area has been closed off by Aurors as part of an active investigation. It would be illegal for me to let you through until they have finished their business."

Harry gave the man a dour look. If he knew who Andromeda was by sight, then chances were high that the man had recognized Harry as well. Having his fame ignored by someone for the first time would have been wonderful were it in any other situation. But right now all it did was increase Harry's agitation.

"It's also illegal to stop me from seeing my Guardians," Harry bit out. "Both of whom are here for treatment."

"Unless, of course, they are suspected of either being or having assisted criminals," Andromeda said icily. "Are they?"

The chubby man hesitated. "Umm… I don't think so? They didn't say anything about that to me."

"Then you shall take us to the Aurors so that we may ascertain whether they are or are not. Otherwise I promise to use the full might of the Daily Prophet to launch a full-blown investigation of this entire hospital. With a particular focus on yourself" Andromeda's eyes flashed with barely hidden rage. "Am I understood?"

The chubby man's face fell at her words. "You wouldn't…" But after looking at Andromeda's still icy face and that of Harry's equally stony face beside her, the man seemed to cave. His shoulders hunched in and he bowed his head.

"Good. Now lead on."

Cowed, the Healer turned around and led them into the ward. He led Harry and Andromeda past a number of rooms with patients. For a moment Harry swore that he could hear Lockhart's voice coming from one of them, but when a quick swivel of his head failed to spot the man Harry gave it up. After a minute of walking, the group halted by a room at the farthest end of the ward where the Healer rapped his knuckles against the closed wooden door.

Several seconds later an annoyed looking man stuck his head out from within. "Barbelsprout, the Minister was _very_ clear that we were not to be disturbed until the suspects have…" the man's voice trailed off as he caught sight of Harry and Andromeda. His eyes locked with Andromeda's as his right cheek twitched.

The man then tried to hastily close the door, but Harry shoved his foot between the frame before it could shut. The heavy piece of wood collided with his foot hard enough to make Harry swear like a sailor. Meanwhile, Andromeda shoved aside Healer Barbelsprout and confronted the new man with a bone chilling glare.

"I think not, Dawlish!" Andromeda snapped. She had her wand out and levelled at the man's face. "I don't care if Minister Fudge and half of his governing cabinet are inside that room! If you do not open this door right this very instant, then I _promise_ you will regret that action to your dying day."

Dawlish's eyes hardened as the man matched glares with Andromeda. He tried to close the door a second time, but Harry's foot kept it jammed open. "Are you threatening an Auror who is performing his duties, Mrs. Tonks? Because that would be a _very_ unwise decision for even you to make."

Andromeda smiled sweetly at the man. But her smile was still cold enough to freeze an active volcano. "Not at all, Dawlish. But trying to stop a mother from seeing her injured daughter, or Harry Potter from seeing either of his injured Guardians, would be a publicity nightmare the likes of which the current ministry is ill-equipped to handle when considering the ongoing crisis over my cousin's improper sentencing."

Dawlish's pursed lips turned into a sneer as he looked at Andromeda's uncompromising expression. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off before he speak.

"There's no need to worry, Dawlish. I think that we can call it done here for today," came a disgustingly cheerful voice which was all too recognizable to Harry. "Besides, Mrs. Tonks is quite right about herself and young Harry. It would be unconscionable of us to keep them apart for any longer."

With a dark glower directed at both Andromeda and Harry, Dawlish stepped back and opened the door. Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge stepped out, a beaming smile present on his reddened features. Seven other men filed out of the room behind Fudge, who doffed his black bowler's hat upon seeing them and gave Andromeda's hand a polite kiss. The tall woman yanked it back the moment he was finished, not-so-subtly wiping the back of her hand upon her expensive dress robes as he smiled at her.

Taking advantage of everyone's attention being focused on Andromeda and the Minister, Harry used the cover of his sleeves to cast Observe on everyone he could see. All but one of whom came back as too high to be read.

Yet the one Observe which did display results was the most important one of all.

**Cornelius Fudge**

**Cornelius Fudge is the current Minister of Magic for the Nation of Magical Britain. Driven by an insatiable need to be praised by those around him, Cornelius has dedicated himself to the pursuit of political power. He likes to appear as an affable and well-natured gentleman, but that is only a facade used to conceal his arrogant and fearful nature. Though not possessed of the strongest of wills, he will use any and all means at his disposal to protect himself from any perceived threat. (See Character Page for Further Information)**

**Minister ****for**** Magic**

**Age: 58**

**Level 147**

**Stats:**

**STR: 71**

**DEX: 65**

**CON: 69**

**INT: 100**

**WIS: 65**

**CHA: 316**

**Traits:**

**Amoral**

**Dedicated**

**Prideful One**

**Envious One**

**Uncontrolled Ambition**

**Prude**

**Gossipmonger**

**Gambler**

**Calculating**

**Faint Heart**

**Vain**

**Quidditch Fanatic**

The Minister's stat page felt like a future version of Draco's before the boy had undergone the evil ritual with Pansy. Aside from a moderately high intelligence level and an absurdly high Charisma number, the Minister's stats were complete garbage. Harry was nearly a hundred levels lower than the man but still managed to beat him across the board. How he had ever been chosen as Minister was beyond Harry's comprehension. A belief which was only furthered when the man began to speak.

"Andromeda, you are as beautiful to see as ever," Fudge said heartily. The man did not seem to be bothered by Andromeda's wiping of her hand. "And Harry my boy, it's a pleasure as always to see you! I spoke with Sirius and Remus at the World Cup several times, but they never brought you along with them. I've been dying to introduce you to some of the many dignitaries currently visiting our fine nation. The Ministers for Magic of Bulgaria and France, in particular, have been pressing me to arrange a meet and greet with you. And both of them are such nice people that I think you would hit it off famously with both of them."

Harry gave a snort at that. And when Dawlish glared at him over the blatant disrespect Harry had just shown to the Minister, Harry glared right back at the man. Harry would sooner ride the Knight Bus after eating a full course meal than he would follow the Minister's suggestion.

"Another time, Cornelius." Andromeda's cold voice contained barely restrained fury as she towered over the much shorter man. "For now, I would greatly appreciate if you would leave and allow Harry and myself time to visit with our loved ones."

"As yes, yes indeed. My apologies to you both. 'Tis the burden of a politician to always think of politics. But a great man must never stop working for the good of his people, am I right?" As he spoke, Fudge gave Harry a conspiratorial wink that made him want to vomit. "But you are right; it's high time that I left and allowed the two of you to catch up with your loved ones. Women and children should always be most concerned with their loved ones and I should stop getting in your way."

Turning to look behind him, Fudge gave a sharp gesture towards two men who could not look more unalike. "Come along now Bartemius, Rufus. You may ask your follow-up questions at a later date."

The two men nodded their heads at the Minister's order. The one who had a grey mane of hair which made the man look like a grizzled lion nodded at Dawlish and the other men stationed around the Minister. The group began to file out with some moving in advance of Fudge and others flanking him on the side. While the other man, who wore a perfectly pressed Muggle suit that made him look like a Muggle stock broker, paused as the group walked away.

Once they were out of earshot he walked up to Andromeda gave her a short nod of his head.

"I feel the need to inform you, Mrs. Tonks, Mr. Potter, that the individuals in this room are currently being treated as material witnesses in an active investigation." The man's flinty eyes flickered between Harry and Andromeda as he spoke in a dry tone of voice reminiscent of an accountant. "As lead agency during the Quidditch Cup, the Department of International Cooperation is working with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on this matter and has full jurisdiction. To this effect I have asked the Ministry to issue a gag order on any and all information pertaining to this incident for the time being. A request which was granted and went into effect as of 4:15 this afternoon. Anyone who violates this order can and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

Andromeda's dark brown eyes glittered with fury at the man's high handed delivery. Her delicate lips curled into a faint sneer as she responded. "What are you trying to tell us, Crouch? I am not sure that I fully understand your point."

"I think that you do, madam Tonks, but I will be explicitly clear for the sake of the boy." Crouch's dry tone of voice did not flicker in the slightest at Andromeda's fury. Meanwhile, Harry felt his own anger rise even further at having been so clearly disregarded by the man. "As close relatives to two of the three material witnesses beyond this door, you and Mr. Potter are also included in this gag order. This means that I do not want to see any stories running on this matter in the Daily Prophet – or any other such publication – until the Ministry has made an official announcement on the matter. If I do, then I will ask the Auror's to place you under arrest for interfering in an official investigation."

"That would be a breach of our civil liberties. Something which not even the Minister is empowered to do under our nation's constitution." Andromeda's eyes narrowed at the man. "And considering your personal track record when it comes to breaking civil liberties, Crouch, I do not believe your reputation can withstand so much as a _whisper_ of public discontent in our current political climate."

"Perhaps. But times change, Mrs. Tonks. As do the fortunes of men." Crouch gave her a wan smile which failed to touch his eyes. "In any case the Minister has made his intentions clear on this matter and I am in agreement with them. I advise you to let this matter drop and walk away with grace."

The two adults locked stares, with neither one giving an inch. Harry gripped his wand tightly, uncertain if it would come to blows, but knowing what he would do should it come to pass. He moved to place himself behind where Crouch was standing. A stunner to the man's back was not the most gallant of strikes, but it would definitely be effective.

"Ha! That's rich, Crouch. Your career's already flushing down the drain thanks to what you did to me and now you're clinging to the Minister in a desperate attempt to stay afloat." Sirius's acerbic voice rang out from the room behind Crouch. Hearing it brought a flash of comfort to Harry's worried heart. "Go on and get out of here already, you toothless old warmonger. A good bootlicker shouldn't be separated from their master for very long."

Crouch's body rigid posture stiffened even further under Sirius' verbal assault. The man's left hand twitched as though gripping a wand. Seeing it almost caused Harry to let loose the and knock the man out cold with a spell of his own. But the moment passed and Crouch's empty hand smoothed down along his side. After a stiffly muttered 'good day' and a hateful glare towards Sirius' room, Crouch moved past Andromeda and Harry and followed the path taken by Fudge's group. The man's posture never lightened in the slightest as his wing-tipped shoes clacked against the Hospital's polished stone floor. Andromeda followed the man with her eyes and muttered something about 'chauvinistic fools' and 'kangaroo courts.'

As for Harry, he was too busy rushing into the room and dashing to his godfather's bedside to pay the pompous ass any further attention. He spared a quick glance at the room's other two occupants, enough to note that Dora and Remus were in the room as well. But it was Sirius' beaming smile that drew Harry's worried gaze.

"Sirius! You're okay!" Harry looked the dark-haired man over. Aside from a bandage wrapped around his head Sirius seemed to be as fit as a fiddle. An observation that the man furthered when he drew Harry in close for a tight hug.

"Yeah kiddo, it's alright. I'm okay. And I'm _really_ glad to see that you are too." The man's dark eyes flashed in sincere delight as he looked Harry over from head to toe. "Though it looks like you haven't stopped to get yourself healed after that duel of yours."

Harry blinked and looked at himself. He was still covered in dust, dirt, and dried blood from his duel against the possessed Draco. But the pain from the cuts and lingering spell damage was not too terrible and could wait until later to be healed.

"Trust me Sirius, it could've been far worse if you guys hadn't stopped the possession spell when you did." Harry's free hand went to his other arm where an oozing wound from one of Malfoy's spells still remained. "But that's all over and done with on my end. I've got some new developments to share with you, but first I really want to hear about what happened to the three of you and why Fudge of all people was in here."

Sirius shook his head in annoyance at Harry's questions. "Bah! That stupid fool of a man wants to cover up what happened at the Cup so that people don't get scared; his poll numbers are sinking rapidly enough without reports of 'Dark Wizard mischief' happening at the World Cup. He came in here asking us all sorts of questions about why we were searching for trouble in the first place. Then he started to make veiled threats against us once we told him that a bunch of Dark wizards were up to no good and that we had caught them in the act."

Sirius looked over at Andromeda and gave her a lopsided grin. "The man cares more for his re-election campaign than he does for the safety of his people. I'd be careful if I were you, 'Dromeda, because he doesn't seem to like the coverage your paper's been giving him recently."

Andromeda sniffed at the statement. "Tell me something I don't already know, Sirius. Though it's good to see that your charm and irrepressible humour remain intact."

"Ha! If a decade spent in Azkaban can't knock it out of me, there's no way some toady like Fudge could do so."

Meanwhile, Harry nodded thoughtfully at his godfather's words. They were in line with how Fudge had acted after Harry had saved Sirius' life from the Dementors. The Minister had displayed little interest in seeing justice served that evening and had chosen to instead rail against Dumbledore for failing to adhere to the Ministry's 'Kiss on Sight' order. It seemed that that incident was not an outlier, but a case in point as to the Minister's true character.

"Oh, and trust me when I say that waking up and seeing the face of Bartemius Crouch staring at me from three feet away was _not_ an experience I ever wanted to have." Sirius continued. He gave a visible shiver of disgust as he spoke. "After what the man did to me, seeing even Snivellus' greasy face would have been preferable."

"I think the feeling was mutual, cousin." Dora chimed in wryly. "Ol' Crouch's face looked like he had bitten into a sour lemon the entire time he was interrogating you. If it weren't for Kingsley and Scrimgeour being present, I'm pretty sure that he would've hexed you towards the end. The comment you made about his wife really set him off."

"Hey! It's his own damn fault that I never heard of her death. The rotten bastard was the one who sent me to Azkaban without a trial in the first place!"

"Yeah, but then you followed it up with a comment saying that his son took after him. And you _knew_ what had happened to Crouch Jr.."

Sirius scoffed at Dora's reply. "The only difference between Crouch and his son – aside from the fact that dear old junior is dead – is that one was mad for power while the other was purely insane. If dear old daddy Crouch had been his son's age, I'm pretty sure that he would have joined Voldemort's merry band of pureblood fops."

As the two relatives began to bicker with one another, Harry looked over at Dora. She looked to be in much worse shape when compared to Sirius. Both of the young woman's arms and hands were covered in gauze, while the off-white medical gown that covered her chest and hips showed signs of further bandaging underneath. A worried looking Andromeda had her wand slowly moving over Dora's body as if to diagnose exactly what had happened to her daughter.

The pretty young woman cut off her argument with Sirius and waved Harry away when he tried to walk over to her. "Don't worry about me, Harry. I got a few burns and cuts in our little scuffle that the Healers couldn't clean up right away, but I've been told that I'll make a full recovery. Four more weeks of bed rest and potions in me and I'll be right as rain."

"While I for one should be back on my feet in about a week or two." Remus nodded in Harry's direction. The brown-haired professor was currently lying on his stomach and had used his elbows to lift himself up as he spoke. Bandages covered his back from his neck down to his buttocks. "Werewolves heal rather quickly even outside of our transformed state. It's one of the few good perks that come along with the condition."

"I seem to recall a certain change in one's anatomy also being one of the perks…" Sirius chimed in. His dark eyes glittered with mirth as he pointed towards his crotch.

Remus, however, was not in a joking mood. His drawn face shifted and shot his old friend a glare. "Shut it, Sirius. Now is not the time."

"Remus is right," Dora said, the usually cheerful woman suddenly looking rather sombre. "We weren't the ones who had our memory wiped like you did."

The room fell silent at Dora's statement. Andromeda even stopped waving her wand over her daughter to stare at her cousin in shock. While Harry… just stared at his godfather in horror.

From Sirius' physical appearance and good humour, Harry had assumed that the dark-haired man was okay. But he had been wrong. Oh so wrong. Because there was little else on this planet that was worse than having your memories wiped, for who knew what could have happened to you before the wiping occurred.

Sirius gave the group a wan smile. "It's really not that bad, everyone. There's no need to stare at me like that. According to the Healer's I only lost about ten minutes worth of time and there's even hope of one-day recovering it."

"B-but Sirius! This is your mind we're talking about," Harry shouted. Memories of Lockhart's failed attempt to Obliviate Ron and himself at the end of their second year flashed through Harry's mind. "You might've seen something important before it was wiped. Or learned some vital piece of information. Or they might even have done something to you before they wiped your mind!"

"Which is why I'll ask Dumbledore and a few others who are specialized in this area to take a look at me the moment they become available. But beyond that there's little I can do except drive myself crazy worrying about it, kiddo, and _that_ I will not do." Sirius' eyes firmed as he spoke. Gone was the usual look of ever present cheer. In its place was the haunted look that he had worn back when Harry had first met the man. "The last thing I can remember is chasing Wormtail into the forest and beating him within an inch of his life. And seeing his disgusting face twisted in fear as I stood over him is a _wonderful_ last memory to have."

Harry stayed quiet as he took in Sirius' statement. He disagreed with his godfather. Nor did Harry want to wait for Dumbledore or someone else to come around when there was a chance that he could use his own abilities to learn the extent of Sirius' condition.

Harry ignored the fact that Andromeda and Dora were staring at him as he pointed his wand at his godfather's temple. "Observe."

**Sirius Orion Black (Injured)**

**Age: 34**

**Heir Apparent to the Black Family**

**Marauder**

**Avenger**

**Level 210**

**Stats:**

**STR: 65**

**DEX: 80**

**CON: 57**

**INT: 401**

**WIS: 93**

**CHA: 663**

**Traits:**

**Loyal**

**Expert Duellist**

**Survivor**

**Animagus**

**Auror Trained**

**Battle Hardened**

**Transfiguration Adept**

**Mental Arts Adept**

**Dark Arts Adept**

**Ancient Runes Adept**

**Charms Adept**

**DADA Adept**

**Survivor of Azkaban**

**Big Spender**

**Headstrong**

**Prankster**

**Pureblood**

**Family Outcast**

**True Friend**

**Blue Blood**

**Don Juan**

Having seen all of Sirius' traits and titles before, Harry ignored them and focused in on the 'Injured' status next to Sirius' name. He used the Help feature to bring it up, scanning over its information as quickly as he could.

_**Injured:**_

_This status is applied to individuals who have suffered a recent injury of some sort. It lasts until the affected individual is either healed or has the injury become permanent._

_Sirius Black has suffered physical and mental damage as a result of recent combat. His physical stats suffer a -10 penalty to all categories while his non-physical stats suffer -30. His injuries will fully heal with proper treatment._

Only when he reached the end of the description did Harry give a sigh of relief. The Game of Death had yet to be proven wrong. Which meant that his godfather would be okay.

Then Harry had a bucket of cold water dumped over his head when Andromeda's voice raised in question. "What was that spell you used just now, Harry? I'm not familiar with it."

"Yeah! Me neither," Dora said. "Which reminds me, Sirius, you did something back in the tent that was pretty odd too. Is it related to what Harry did just now?"

The next few minutes before Barblesprout and two other Healers returned to finish treating Sirius and the others were some of the most tense of Harry's recent life. He managed to avoid telling Andromeda and Dora about the Game of Death, but only after confessing that it was a secret which Dumbledore had asked him to conceal. Neither woman had appeared happy to hear that, especially Dora. But after Sirius and Remus backed Harry up on it and said that keeping the information secret was for Harry's protection both women had grudgingly accepted Harry's word on the subject. After which the discussion turned to Dora and the others relaying what had happened to them while Harry had been duelling.

After awhile the Healers had come in and brought an end to the review. The professional medical workers had bustled about in a frenzy, double checking their patients' injuries and stuffing more potions down their throats as they started changing bandages. Remus took their ministrations with quiet acceptance while both Dora and Sirius were anything but cooperative. The two relatives squirmed and complained non-stop as the healers went about their work.

It would have been rather amusing to watch had one of the Healer's not taken a look at Harry's ragged appearance and dragged him off to a separate room for a full-body check-up. The last thing Harry heard as the elderly woman hauled him away was the sound of Sirius and Dora chortling at his expense and competing over who could the most scandalous catcall. Which, more so than even the Game of Death's Observe, put Harry's mind at ease.

He kept quiet as the Healer worked on him, lost in a tangle of his own thoughts. All of which centred around the battle that had just ended. Three people Harry knew and cared for had gotten hurt while trying to protect him. Three wizards and witches who were stronger, more experienced, and just plain better at magic than either Harry or any of his friends from school. And though they would survive and eventually return to normal, it had been far too close a shave for comfort.

Standing still would not be enough. Harry needed to grow stronger. To grow more knowledgeable and skilled than even the best of wizards.

Because next time those around him might not be so lucky.

**A/N:** This terrible, rotten, no good and quite horrible Pandemic sweeping across the world gave me more time to write than I initially expected. I figure that during a time of horror and tragedy, maybe I could help distract some of you from your troubles for a time and bring a few smiles back to people's faces with this story. Expect updates to be sporadic (being cooped up in a house with a small child who seeks attention from any and all nearby adults is not conducive to long stretches of writing), but know that I am working hard on getting chapters completed and out.

May you and your families be blessed with good health and safety during this time of crisis. And please, reach out a hand to those who are in need around you. We're all human beings and we are all in this together.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


	34. Chapter 33: Movements in the Shadows

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related works. The rights to the books, movies, and everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and her many business affiliates. This is a fan made work of fiction that will never earn me a single penny. Now buy something official so you can support the woman who made this world possible for us to play in and explore.

**Harry Potter And The Game of Death**

**Level 1**

**Chapter ****Thirty-****Three****:**** Movement****s**** in the Shadows**

At the top of a spire located somewhere within the Americas, a brown-haired man stood before a collection of witches and wizards seated within a large room. Giant windows to every side allowed the sun's light to stream in, dazzling the eye as it refracted off the assorted crystals and jewels embedded into decorations and magical devices alike. It was one of the most beloved staterooms of the International Confederation of Wizards for this beauty, but those gathered within its walls were unable to appreciate it on this day.

The man had been speaking for nearly an hour to the highest council of the I.C.W. and sweat could be seen dripping down his bandaged forehead. The faces of those he spoke to wore various looks of disbelief, as though they were unable to process what had just been reported. The man bowed low to the august body, his tan robes shifting as he folded them to cover his burnt and twisted hands.

"That brings my report to its conclusion, most esteemed Mugwumps. It is my hope that you have the grace and the fortitude to act on the information it contained so that the sacrifices of my comrades were not in vain. May the gods and goddesses above guide your discussion."

Finished at long last, the man wearily walked to a nearby staircase. The heavy stone golem which stood watch allowed the man to leave without issue. He descended the stone steps with a heavy tread, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the tense air.

Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his tall chair, taking a moment to rub his tired eyes. The agent's report had been quite long, and lengthy sessions such as this wore heavily on his old bones. But that was the sole allowance he made for himself. He had a duty to perform and delaying it would only worsen the coming acrimony.

"Members of the council," he intoned gravely, "we have just heard the report of the last surviving intelligence agent dispatched to survey the unusual happenings in Albania's Dark Forest. Agent Farad's testimony has raised grave and serious issues which I hope you will consider thoroughly before you reach a conclusion. The floor is open to discussion."

The first person to speak was a wizard from the country in question.

"I must object to the fanciful testimony we have just heard, Albus!" The man's voice was filled with hurt and righteous anger as he gestured with a closed fist. "It was filled with naught but lies and deceit. I can assure the entire council that my nation remains in _complete_ control of the area surrounding the Dark Forest. I can also state with _absolute_ certainty that the wards which this august body have placed upon its boundaries centuries ago have shown no signs of weakening and remain _fully_ intact."

"Are you certain of that, Murat?" A witch from the Magical Congress of the United States of America stood in opposition to the Albanian wizard. Her dark purple hat and magenta robes swayed as she spoke. "My own sources would seem to confirm the truth of the agent's words. As I mentioned at each of the _three_ sessions prior. Your nation's control over the Dark Forest and the creatures it contains would seem to be slipping."

"Yes! We too can verify this," a third member chimed in forcefully. The man's mauve and white robes swirled about as he gesticulated wildly. "Why, within the past two days alone I have received _multiple_ reports of trolls and giants being sighted within my nation's boundaries. And several days before that there was a report about a full-blooded Gryffon fighting a pair of mated Manticore's in full view of a Muggle village. Not since the Twenty-Fifth Compact of Wizardkind was signed nearly a hundred years ago and Albania promised independence in order to function as a neutral warden over the dangerous entities the forest contains. A duty they have _clearly_ failed to uphold."

"Your words betray your nation's interests in this matter, Joska." Murat matched glares with the dark-eyed wizard who had just spoken. "The Austro-Hungarian Empire has _always_ wanted to reabsorb us back into your diseased embrace. This is just another pathetic attempt in a long line of pathetic attempts to trick this august body into whitewashing your country's greedy desires. And I for one will not stand for it, you foul piece of rotting garbage!"

"How _dare_ you insult my honour and that of my country, you _arrogant_ son of a –"

The entire council dissolved into a verbal scrum as the various representatives argued with one another. Those who believed the agent's report, in which it was claimed that the wards around Albania's Dark Forest were on the verge of collapse, howled for immediate action to be taken lest an irrecoverable breach of the Internation Statute of Wizarding Secrecy occur. While those who felt that it was a lie, or were scared to face the truth, howled back with wild accusations of their own. Albus' attempts to restore order and guide the collective into a reasonable discussion failed, leading to the eventual dissolution of the session without a clear settlement in place to deal with the possible crisis.

The only thing of any good that came about from the meeting happened when Albus met privately with a small group of mugwumps afterwards. Composed of witches and wizards from multiple nations, the group agreed to form a joint task force that, with Dumbledore acting as its leader, would travel to Albania's Dark Forest and determine the truth of the matter once and for all. Every member selected to join the task force would be at the level of a Mage, with the goal of creating a group capable of both moving quickly while enacting powerful magic rituals on a grand scale should their worst fears be confirmed.

Like Albus, the nations who comprised the group knew that the Dark beings which dwelled within the Forest were not limited to mere magical creatures or rogue Vampires. Far greater and terrible existences dwelled within its confines, and should they break loose then the entire world could be endangered. It would take the emergence of a Chosen One, or perhaps many Chosen ones, to halt their advance. And though some of the mugwumps claimed to have information which indicated that such an individual did exist within the present era, no country had yet to publicly claim them.

Which was a second boon to have come from the smaller meeting. The knowledge that other states and organizations were searching for this Chosen One sent a cold shiver down Albus' back, but knowing that they had yet to find their quarry gave him room to act. After the small meeting had come to an end Albus had made sure to further muddy the etherial tides surrounding Harry in order to keep the boy hidden from the prying gaze of foreign scryers. Only he knew that Harry Potter was the one they sought. And until the boy had grown into his own power, with the ability to protect himself from the machinations of those who would use him, that was the way Albus wished to keep it.

The potential crisis the group of mugwumps and Albus feared lay ahead was not yet upon them. It could still be diverted through the efforts of enough good men and women. Whereas saving the world from an apocalyptic disaster was a burden that should never be placed upon the shoulders of one so young as Harry. Especially when the boy already had enough on his plate to deal with as it were, what with the fate of his destined showdown against Riddle and those who would serve the recuperating Dark Lord.

* * *

"You Muggle-loving sons of _whores_! Your display of naked _incompetence_ today brought shame to your Houses. All of them! But most of all to my own House, which was the public face of this bloody disaster!"

Lucius could already see the headlines in tomorrow's edition of the Daily Prophet. 'Harry Potter Wallops Pureblood Scion of House Malfoy.' 'House Malfoy Fails Again.' Or even 'Narcissa Black Laughs at Former House's Continued Misfortune.'

Just thinking of the possibilities caused Lucius to see red as he continued to pace. "To think that you allowed yourselves to be beaten by a disgusting half-breed and the daughter of a Muggleborn. Two examples of the filth that we would see wiped from our society like the disgusting pieces of trash they are. Such an egregious travesty _spits_ upon every tradition that those of the Blood hold dear."

Lucius Malfoy cursed out the three men before him with every invective he could imagine. After several minutes of non-stop haranguing during which the three men said not a single word in reply, he stopped his pacing and stared at them. His black gentleman's cane switched between them as if seeking a target.

Which, considering the fact that he _could_ use it to cast spells thanks to his wand being hidden within its hilt, was a distinct possibility.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?" He hissed. "I'm waiting to hear what kind of _brilliant_ excuses you might have to explain your misbegotten actions. Or are you silent because that hoary old bastard, Dumbledore, buggered you so hard last night that you've lost the ability to speak?"

Yaxley and Morgan's eyes flashed with barely concealed rage as Lucius stared at them. He would have loved to pry into their minds with Legilimency, but to his further frustration both of their Occlumency shields held firm against his continued probes. The two men held their tempers, most likely from the knowledge that their lives and fortunes were tied to Lucius' own. For if he willed it then both men could soon find themselves in the poorhouses alongside the likes of the disgusting Weasleys. A fate which would mean instant ostracising from their social peers and the death of their ambitions.

Parkinson, however, was somewhat more bold. His bloody face, cut and swollen from where Andromeda's girl had injured him in their duel, was gruesome to see as he matched eyes with Lucius. "What did you expect us to do in that situation, Lucius? Dumbledore's pet Werewolf and Andromeda's wayward daughter took us by surprise by discovering us much sooner than you had anticipated. And despite the taint on their blood, both of them come from old and prestigious bloodlines. It is to be expected that their abilities would not shame their ancestral Houses."

His voice thickening from anger towards the end, the man began to make choking sounds. After working something through his throat he spat a bloody wad onto the dark wooden floor. The spittle nearly hit Lucius' expensive dragon-hide boots and stoked his anger anew.

"Besides," Parkinson continued, "given the tight quarters of the tent you told us to take, neither Yaxley nor I could use our magic to full effect to defend Morgan. Who, by the way, was a sitting duck because of your brilliant plan. The battleground played to their strengths and went against our weaknesses!"

"So it's _my_ fault that you failed to protect Morgan while he was occupied? Or that Morgan failed to defeat Potter during the duel?" Lucius slapped the man's face with his gloved hand, using just enough force to whip the man's head around without breaking the skin. "Shut up, Parkinson. And don't even _think_ of speaking again until I give you permission. I may be more merciful than our former Lord, but I am not above making an example should you continue to bleat like the cowardly sheep you are."

Parkinson's jaw tightened as he slowly moved his head around. The muscles in his cheek visibly clenched as a red mark from Lucius' backhanded slap began to form. "Yes, Lucius," the man bit out. "As you command."

"Exactly, Parkinson. You should do _precisely_ as _I_ command. I have ways of making your daughter's fate seem like a mercy compared to what I could do to you. A fact which you would do well to remember."

A few ideas for such a punishment flashed through Lucius' head as he spoke. Although most Dark rituals called for the sacrifice of women, creatures, or those who fought against the Dark, there were some which called for the sacrifice of a Dark Witch or Wizard. Parkinson and his wife would make for lovely choices should the man continue to buck Lucius' authority in the future.

But not yet. For the time being Parkinson and the others were more useful to Lucius where they were. So he contained his wrath with an effort of will and resumed castigating them in the hope that some small modicum of his own intelligence would sink into their dense brains.

After taking out the remainder of his temper upon the trio of failures, cursing them repeatedly and lashing out with his cane whenever they showed signs of speaking without permission, Lucius stepped back and gave the them a disdainful sneer. "Hopefully each of you now recognizes the depth of your shame. Get yourselves back to your homes and clean yourselves up. I will contact you once I have figured out a way to salvage the plan, at which time I expect you to be ready to act."

Lucius turned away from the three failures and left the room. Seconds later he felt the three Apparate, their presences leaving the Manor's wards. He snorted at their apparent haste. Parkinson barely had a spine and could hardly be counted on to perform under pressure, but Lucius had expected more from Yaxley and Morgan. The two men had been higher in their former master's favour than Parkinson had ever been, yet had displayed the same degree of cowardice.

It just went to show that even amongst Purebloods there were some families who were greater and others who were lesser. A maxim for why House Malfoy, under Lucius' leadership, was destined to ascend. It was just a matter of time.

Lucius left the room behind as he walked towards his private study. He passed the room in which his son was currently recovering, but made no move to enter. He merely spared it a glance to make sure that the silencing Charms he had placed upon it earlier were still working. It would be a bother if the boy's agonized screams were to interrupt the coming conversation, and Draco had already proven himself to be a bigger failure than Lucius had thought possible. That problem put aside for later, Lucius entered his study with a swish of his cane to magically open the door.

He stifled a relieved sigh as the dark wooden walls and sumptuous furnishings of his personal sanctuary instantly calmed his mind. Then he made his way to a crystal decanter and poured out a thimble worth of Ogden's finest into a nearby glass. The fiery liquid gave off puffs of smoke as it swirled within. Lucius quaffed it and poured out four more thimble's worth. Then he turned around and levelled a peeved look at the shaggy haired man sitting in a nearby chair.

"Well Igor, you can see the dogs dinner that those three have made of things. After their abject failure the Ministry is sure to increase security around the venue. To the point where I doubt that we will be able to affect the outcomes of any more matches." Lucius was tempted to down his second glass like he had downed the first, but ultimately held back. Too much liquor too quickly would impair his thoughts, and he needed every gram of intelligence he possessed in order to find a solution to the mess he now found himself mired within. "Even the final stage of the plan where we would use an attack on the camp-grounds to remind the world of our existence has been jeopardized. The plan that we spent months working on has nearly been ruined!"

Igor Karkaroff's cold eyes glittered above his thick black beard as the tall sipped from a goblet of Lucius' finest wine. Rich yet heavy clothing of Russian inspiration cloaked his frame. The current Headmaster of Durmstrang, once a resident of Magical Britain but gone for nearly a decade, scratched a bearded cheek and nodded his head grimly.

"I agree. My sources in your government have stated that Mad Eye has begun to raise a stink within the D.M.L.E. over the matter. The girl Auror those three fools fought is apparently his latest apprentice; her being injured in the line of duty has given Mad Eye a way into the situation after you assisted Scrimgeour in cutting him out."

Lucius swore upon hearing that. An errant jerk of his hand caused some of the firewhiskey to spill onto his robes, drawing forth yet another curse. "Don't tell me that the rotten bastard is going to be taking over the security detail for the event. That would be a disaster!"

"He's pushing for it, but I've heard that it's an uphill battle at the moment. Thus far only Director Bones and Arthur Weasley have sided with him. The Minister and our old friend Bartemius have kept a lid on the situation and levied a gag order upon Potter and his allies. Without the assistance of public outrage, it's unclear whether Mad Eye and his allies can gather enough internal support to take over the preparations. Director Bones might be a fearsome witch in her own right, but neither she nor Moody are well liked by the Ministry bureaucrats. While Weasley is, as ever, only effective as window dressing."

Karkaroff took another sip from his goblet, lips smacking in obvious appreciation of the vintage. The uncouth sounds caused Lucius to wince. Living in the frozen north had completely ruined the man's manners.

"What do you think, Lucius? We need to respond in some way, but I'm unsure what method we should use. I've only been re-establishing my own contacts within the government since negotiations for the Tri-Wizard tournament began a year ago while you know magical Britain's current political calculus inside and out."

"It's… tricky," Lucius replied slowly. "Let me think it through before I reply."

Lucius ran through the variables. Karkaroff's brief summary had given him enough information to figure out who the major players would be in the internal scrum happening behind the Ministry's closed doors. And with that knowledge came the ability to predict the course of how things were currently playing out. As well as how he could begin to influence it to better suit his own goals.

After several minutes of quiet thought Lucius nodded his head. "Yes, I do believe that your assessment is correct. But it will require some sacrifices on my part to ensure the outcome we desire. Scrimgeour might be a rather useful dupe, but the man does possess an unfortunately strong sense of ethics. He would fight us to the last if he knew that we were manipulating his personal ambitions to suit our own interests."

Karkaroff grimaced. "A pity, that."

"Agreed. Law enforcement is so much better when it is filled with people who have a respect for the proper order of things." Lucius' expression turned sour and he took a bracing draught of his drink. "But Bones has kept a tighter watch on Aurors and Auror candidates than Bartemius ever did when he ran the department. Only a bare few individuals sympathetic to our interests remain in their ranks. To keep Scrimgeour in charge of the Cup's security arrangements, in the dark about our own involvement, _and_ keep Mad Eye out of the picture as much as possible will require me to lean heavily on Bartemius and Fudge."

Karkaroff shifted nervously in his seat. "Will we have to give up anything in regards to the Tri-Wizard Tournament? The only reason I agreed to help you in the first place, Lucius, is because it provided a way to to boost Krum's confidence prior to the competition. The boy is certain to be my school's champion and I still need your assistance to change some of the proposed rules to favour his abilities. If it means choosing between your plans for the Cup or the school tournament…"

Lucius held up a hand to dissuade the jittery man from continuing. "I don't believe it will come to that, Igor. Old Barty Crouch is no longer the powerful man who wielded life and death over us when the war ended. He's now a toothless old tiger that's attached himself to Fudge's rotten tree in a desperate attempt to retain what little power he has left."

A smile came across Lucius' face as he laughed at his old foe's disgrace. Bartemius Crouch had been a terrifying enemy to the Death Eaters back when he had been in charge of the D.M.L.E.. His order authorizing the use of Unforgiveables on Death Eaters had led more than a few of the Dark magic users to their deaths. But the man's habit of burning bridges for the sake of his ambition had left him without friends when his fall from power had come, while his lifelong aspiration to one day become Minister for Magic grew more faint with every year that passed.

"I have amassed more than enough levers with which to control Barty," Lucius said after taking a sip of Firewhisky. "As for Fudge, securing his assistance should merely require a large donation of money to one of his many shell companies. After which I'll call in a few minor favours and have some of the rank and file members of other departments help smooth matters over through internal lobbying."

"Hm. Simple enough, I guess. But are you sure that it will work?" Karkaroff's nervous face gained a green tinge to it. "What of Albus Dumbledore? Will he not interfere?"

The smile on Lucius' face widened at Igor's words. "I almost hope that he does! You see, Fudge has turned suspicious of Dumbledore as of late. It's the entire reason why Dumbledore no longer sits on the tournament's planning committee. The good Minister has begun to view the ancient relic of a wizard as a political rival, which means that any attempt on Dumbeldore's part to interfere in the matter will only strengthen our hand. The old bastard knows it too, which means that he is completely powerless to stop us."

Karkaroff shook his head in seeming wonder. "Incredible. To think that your Minister is such a useful fool these days. It is a great difference from the last time I set foot upon these shores."

Lucius tipped his glass in a salute. "Thank you. Those of us who once swore fealty to the Dark Lord have been busy in the years since. Electing Fudge as Minister has been one of our greatest triumphs."

Oddly enough, what little remained of Karkaroff's good cheer ended instantly at Lucius' comment. The man took several large gulps from his goblet as his greenish tinge worsened. He even began to cough and pound on his chest, looking for all the world like some Muggle fool had drank too fast. It would seem that speaking of their deceased master was a taboo subject. An odd little fact which Lucius made sure to note for future reference.

His posture growing stiff and rigid under Lucius' measuring gaze, Karkaroff changed the subject. "In any case, Lucius, let us simply give up on influencing the matches any further. Judging by his bracket, Krum's team would seem to have a free path towards the Cup finals. You can simply follow the agreement and have Morgan and Yaxley pay off your informant to compensate the man for any future gambling losses. Doing so will give us more time to scope out the changes in security and find methods to neutralize them for your little attack."

"Agreed. It will cost the two a sizeable fortune, but paying it should serve as fitting punishment for their failure. I may even have Parkinson add a gratuity on top of it to grease any future cooperation that we might one day require."

Karkaroff nodded. "A wise precaution, my friend. Though I do wish you would share with me the identity of your informant. There are several uses I would have for the man if he is as highly placed as you would seem to indicate."

Lucius smiled enigmatically as he clinked glasses with the bearded wizard. But he did not answer, as there were some secrets better kept close to ones vest. Such as how Lucius actually planned to ensure the informant's continued assistance in the future in a way much less open to betrayal.

Li Chang thought himself smart. The man had tricked his fool of a boss into making terrible gambling bets for years which Chang had then used to enrich his own pockets. But playing a game of deception against Lucius Malfoy was entirely different than tricking the foolish Ludo Bagman. Chang may have taken a few precautions to protect his identity from discovery during his interactions with Morgan and Yaxley, but Lucius had kept a file on the man's vices for years in case the man had ever became important enough to merit Lucius' personal attention. Between Chang's shady gambling deals, his cheating wife, his own adultery, and his delectable young daughter, the man had _dozens_ of soft spots just begging to be taken advantage of by a seasoned schemer raised in House Slytherin.

But that would have to wait until later. For now it was time for Lucius to salvage what he could of the mess created by his underlings. To that effect Lucius bade Karkaroff goodnight. He then penned several quick letters and had a House Elf deliver them to their various recipients. An hour more of back and forth correspondence saw the first signs of success begin to appear, with Fudge eagerly leaping at the promised gold and the others falling in line behind him.

Only then did Lucius pay a visit to Draco's room and gaze upon the disappointment that was his son.

* * *

Quiet sobbing filled a dark room. The person on the dark wooden floor curled into themselves, their body shaking from the remaining tendrils of searing pain. Had they been in this position for an hour? A week? A month? Time had long since lost meaning. All they knew was pain, separated by brief interludes of rest.

A red light shone in the darkness. "_Crucio_!"

"_Ahhhhh_! Please master, mercy!" Torrential screams ripped itself from Wormtail's throat as his body writhed upon the filth covered floor. Foul smelling liquids covered his bare skin as he jerked and twisted on the scratched and stained wooden floor. "_Mercy_!"

"Do you know your failures, Wormtail?"

"_Yes_! It's my fault that Sirius Black discovered me. That he almost captured or killed me in the forest!"

"And?"

The pain Wormtail felt from the torturing curse rose a notch higher. Much further and he would been unable to speak. Yet even that level of horrendous pain would be a mercy compared to the earlier periods of torture Wormtail had already endured.

"_Argh_! It's… it's because of… of my ineptitude! My failure to complete my mission and see the conclusion of Potter's duel!" Wormtail gasped out the words as streams of molten pain coursed through his veins.

"You are correct, servant," Lord Voldemort's cold, sibilant voice literally hissed with pleasure at Wormtail's reply. "Now receive the last of your punishment."

The pain from the _Cruciatus_ shot higher, causing Wormtail to lose the inability to think. Spittle dripped from his lips as his muscles began to tear themselves apart from violent convulsions which wracked his body. He once again knew nothing but pain. Pain beyond anything that mere physical torture could ever achieve. Pain so intense that not even blacking out would cause it to come to an end.

Then it stopped, and with its absence a blissful peace began to fill Wormtail's being. He knew what was expected next, having seen it more times than he could count back during the days of the Wizarding War. Never had it happened to him, though, until today.

Sobbing, Wormtail forced himself to crawl towards his master's crib where he reached out and kissed Voldemort's claw-like hand in grateful thanks. For once the putrid stink of rotting flesh did not bother Wormtail as his lips touched the vile limb. "Thank you, my master, thank you. I will never fail you again. I swear it!"

"I expect nothing less, my servant," Voldemort said softly. His cold, sibilant voice wrapped around Wormtail's shivering form as though it were an icy blanket. "You must remember the mercy I have shown you today. If it were another servant who had failed me during a critical moment, such as those who have shown themselves to be disloyal through their abandonment, then I would have spent far more time on them than a mere ten minutes."

Wormtail shivered upon hearing his master's words. Those ten minutes had felt like an eternity. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you again, my Lord. Your benevolence is without equal. Your mercy unending. Your kindness–"

"My mercy is _not_ unending, Wormtail," the Dark Lord hissed as he cut off Wormtail's praise. "Must I remind you yet again? One of my hidden operatives risked their cover to protect you. Cover which is of absolute necessity to the success of my plan! Had they been made, or the knowledge you possess been wrenched from your mind by one of Dumbledore's minions, then my plan could have gone terribly awry. _My_ plan! Not Lucius' pathetic little diversion, or your own sad dreams of revenge against your former friends, but the grand plan that I_, __Lord Voldemort,_ have created in order to ensure my return to the heights of power!"

The Dark Lord's wand reached out and gently tapped Wormtail's forehead, causing a short burst of pain to flare inside of his brain. It was a warning of future pain should Wormtail fail again. Feeling it nearly caused his racing heart to stop dead in his chest.

His master's eyes pierced the darkness as they pinned Wormtail to the floor with their crimson stare. "Be glad that you have already proven your loyalty and are of use to me, servant. Were it otherwise… well, I would have already given you to the tender mercies of those who dwell within Albania's Dark Forest."

Wormtail quaked in fear and pain as he began to babble his understanding of his master's words. But the Dark Lord was not interested and waved him to silence. "I tire of your incessant nonsense, servant. Make yourself useful by bringing the Pensieve over. I wish to review your memories, incomplete as they may be, at my leisure."

Wormtail leaped to obey. His heart pounded within his chest as his bare feet slapped against the hard wooden floor. Only to halt in fear as his Lord's voice called out to him once more.

"Oh, there is one more thing you should know before you go, Wormtail. Nagini has been hungry of late. And she does so love to eat rats." A dark chuckle rang out in the dark. "Please keep that in mind."

Trickles of sweat ran down Wormtail's neck and back as a shiver went through his entire body. His master's latest addition to their group, a massive venomous snake, struck fear in Wormtail whenever it was around. The way it looked at him was as though it knew his Animagus transformation. As though it could not wait for Wormtail to transform so that it would be free to hunt him as it wished.

"Yes, my Lord." He whispered fearfully. "I live to obey."

He resumed his path to the Pensieve, repeating the words in his heart like a mantra. Wormtail had long since made his bed and no one could ever save him from it. He only hoped with every breath in his body that the sacrifices he had made, and the betrayals he had committed, would one day be worth the pain.

**A/N:** Didn't see Karkaroff coming in like that, now did ya? And I doubt that many of you guessed that Cho's dad was the figure in the woods either ;-) The hints were there, but I tried to keep them hidden so that only the sharpest of eyes would discover them. And as for the Dumbledore scene… it's been awhile since I touched on the 'grand world of magic' that I established early on in this story. It was due for an update XD

We're on the last leg of this story, folks, and then part 1 is at an end. I don't see it having more than 10 chapters remaining. Five of which are already in various stages of completion. The sequel stories will come later.

I wasn't able to locate any canon information concerning the actual composition of the I.C.W. other than a brief description stating that it is similar to the U.N. So… yeah. I'm going to wing it and create the organization using nothing but my own ideas rather than relying upon Fanon stuff. Thankfully I have some limited experience studying and dealing with large international institutions (including the U.N.) so hopefully I'll be able to make it interesting.

And though I try to avoid commenting on current politics, I feel compelled to say that I am _**immensely**_ disappointed, saddened, and heartbroken to see what has become of America's foreign aid apparatus during this worldwide pandemic at time when it is most needed. _Ugh_!

Stay safe and healthy everyone!

Until Next Time,

~Elsil


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